Near the end of one’s life I imagine that everyone wishes to
make sense of their lives and understand how their personal story fits into the
grander sweep of history. My story is part of the larger story of Jews in the
world, and specifically in my case in Poland.
In the middle ages, Poland was a feudal country with nobles
who owned the land, and peasants who worked the land, never owned anything
really, and had to pay rents and taxes to the nobles. Into this atmosphere of
absentee landlords, gallivanting elegantly in Paris, and the poorest peasants
living from hand to mouth with many children, came the permission to have Jews start
a system of banking. Although there were Jewish traders coming to Poland from
about the year 960, it was Casimir the Great in 1334 who actually invited and welcomed the Jews as a group to handle more “modern” forms of finance as a middle class. They were very
restricted in terms of the places where they could live; they could not own
land; they had the job of collecting rent and taxes from the peasants to send to
the lords. For this reason, they were resented and hated by the peasants. In
addition, the Church taught the illiterate peasants that Jews killed their Lord
and deserved to suffer. Nearly 100 percent of native Poles were blond,
blue-eyed, and Catholic. Orthodox Jews had dark hair, curled earlocks, and
distinctive dress that set them apart and caused additional ridicule. When the
peasants got drunk they felt free to abuse the unprotected Jews with insults,
stones, and intermittent pogroms.
We skip now to 1920 in the modern era. I was born at a time
when many Jews were dressing like everyone else, super patriotic to Poland,
having served in the Polish army in World War I, mixing freely in Polish
society, and feeling confident of their equal citizenship status. After Austrians and
German lost WWI, Poland, which had been divided between Germany, Austria, and
Russia, was again a sovereign nation. Jews had been protected in Austria by
Emperor Franz Joseph, and this caused additional resentment and hatred of Jews in
Poland after war was over and Polish nationalism rose. Still, Jews were
recognized poets, political leaders and advisors, scientists, writers, really
functioning at a high level in Polish life.
My father’s family, the Kohns, remained in Vienna, Austria,
after WWI, and had a prosperous and elegant life in what was considered the intellectual center of
Europe at the time. Jews were prominent in every aspect of life, many very
“secular” and assimilated. My mother’s family, however, had a very big building
business in Rzeszow, about two hours east of Krakow (today on the border with
Ukraine). It was a large, hardworking, successful, close family... a good life.
Everyone accepted the limitations of being a minority in this Catholic country. As an example: my friend Janek was the best student in university. Yet he was listed as second;
a Polish student had to be first. That was considered normal. My father Benjamin "Beno" Kohn had a
similar business to my grandfather's with building materials. During the
Depression he sold the big wholesale store and most belongings and opened a smaller retail hardware store from the inventory at he could salvage. I remember two nuns passing by the store and
looking at the name on the window: Benjamin Kohn and Co. They pointed to the
name and said to each other: “This is not one of ours. There is another store
on the next block. More expensive but one of our people.” So we were
tolerated, but never really considered equal.
My home was a little different. We did not live in the Jewish
quarter of Kazimierz, only in a nearly completely gentile neighborhood near the
Park Krakowski, a magic place for all my childhood with swimming, boating,
horseback riding, every sport, Italian ice cream, and other wonders. Yet, my
mother insisted that I attend a Jewish school an hour away, at the other end of
town in the Jewish Quarter, more like the set of Fiddler on the Roof. In that
school we learned the required Polish subjects, but, in addition, remained an extra few
hours a day to learn Hebrew as a modern language (quite an experiment of that
day). It was not a religious education, but rather, gave a solid cultural and
literary foundation of Judaism. The professors were way above our heads; they
should have been university-level professors, but those doors were closed to
them, so they taught on a high school level students who, for the most part,
couldn’t appreciate their greatness.
I felt very Polish, very involved in Polish life, and had a
happy childhood with a tutor for languages, good schooling, dancing and music classes after school, vacation at the
ocean during the summer, skiing in Zakopane in winter,etc. When Hitler crossed into Poland in 1939 my whole life stopped. I
describe the events of those years of horror and loss in the book my daughter
wrote - “From Miracle to Miracle: A Story of Survival.” For about three years,
I lived as a Catholic with false papers as Maria Zylinska. I heard people
talking in front of me in a way they wouldn’t had they known I was Jewish. These were people, who liked and respected me for who I was, for my work, my
talents, my personality,had no idea about my true identity. One
Christmas, a university professor’s daughter, who worked with me at a job I had, knew I was alone and invited me for Christmas dinner at her home. I was
basically hungry all the time, so this was a treat. I sat at a lovely table,
elegantly spread. During the dinner with these intellectual, upper-class
people, talk turned to the Jews. When I heard their hateful, anti-Semitic
comments, I couldn’t swallow; I felt like crying. This is what they really think
about Jewish people? I was invited because of friendship; I was the same
person... but if they found out I was Jewish, I would be in danger and probably
turned in, and marked for death.
 |
Nika as Maria Zylinska after liberation from POW camp
in Oberlangen, Germany 1945 |
In 1946, when I arrived in America, this rich country, I
expected the cities to be beautiful. I had come from Krakow, one of the most
beautiful cities in the world. Everything in the USA was 100 percent different from what I
was used to. People in general did their own shopping and cooking without
household help. There were slums and poor people in the streets. I couldn’t
understand how this could be permitted. However, there were great differences
that were also very admirable.
I learned slowly to trust policemen, who are here to protect
you. In Poland, contact with a policeman would be trouble, and anyone in
uniform during the war was to be avoided!
I had never seen black people and it took a while to get used
to the mixture of all kinds of people. Everyone in America was some kind of minority
and an immigrant from some other country.
My husband took me to Bear Mountain to show me the lovely
scenic views where all the “refugees” (Jewish immigrants who got stuck during
the World’s Fair in 1939 and couldn’t return to Germany, Poland, etc.) had gone on brief vacations during the war. They had formed a group of close friendships, including Alfred Fleissig, who was now my husband, and wanted to show me places he had visited.
On this occasion he took me to a club where he had not visited before. We entered somehow from the back of the shooting club, part of the larger complex. As we
exited later from the front of the building, I was in shock: a big sign over the
entrance read “No Jews or Dogs Allowed.” For this I survived the Holocaust? To
see such discrimination in the Land of the Free? I learned that there were
restricted clubs, and neighborhoods where Jews were not permitted. Once again,
I was aware of being a minority, and couldn’t bear to see such hatred.
Should
we leave? But where to go? My husband was building up his business and we were
creating a family and having children. We chose a lovely place to live in the suburbs of NY, White
Plains, across the street from a Reform synagogue. I figured there we would
have Jewish friends and find good schools for our children.
I met many couples in America who were inter-married. I saw
that some Jews wanted to get away from the horrible history of Jewish suffering,
and felt that with a non-Jewish mate their children would avoid suffering.
Under Hitler, even people who had one Jewish grandparent were judged as vermin
to be executed. People need to know their history and have pride in who they
are... to know who they are. In a free society, it is less important to confront
being a minority; but in tough times, discrimination rears up
again, as I experienced.
I come from Cohanim, ancient tribe of Priests. Centuries ago, when Jews lived in the Ancient Land of Israel, the Cohanim served as the spiritual leaders for the people. Down through the generations, a vestige of this honored position remained. In traditional congregations, a Cohen is called up for the first honor of the reading from the Torah. There are still special restrictions on whom a Cohen can marry. I never thought about it, until my beloved
daughter informed me that she is studying to become a Rabbi. So it went full
cycle, and she emerged with a strong desire to help, teach, and bring Jewish
tradition to the next generation.
I feel personally that I have arranged my life in a positive
way, and have traveled all over the world; I'm glad to be greeted with “Welcome
Home” when returning to American soil. I don’t have to look behind me and be
scared about who might see me or know who I am. I have great friendships and close family. All things considered, I feel that this country of America allows a shoemaker’s son to rise to any
level. There is still more freedom here than in other places in the world.
I solved it my own way but I wonder what the future will bring
for the coming generations.
I want to write about the subject of “survival” but right now I need to clear my head and take
a walk around the marina in Wellfleet, Cape Cod, where I spend four months each
summer .
I told you this would be a tough subject. Not every chapter of my blog can be lighthearted and humorous.
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