Jakub Pogoda
The events of March 1968 started in 1946 and lasted for the next 22 years.
My parents survived the Holocaust by fleeing to Russia. When our family returned to Poland, we were met by people who threw stones at the trains shouting “Jews, get out of Poland”.
I was 4 years old when we arrived in Poland. We lived in Wroclaw until I was 11 years old, and then we moved to Bielsk. I started fourth grade there. When I was going home from school the boys in the neighborhood would wait for me to beat me up. They were tall and strong, and I was small and helpless. For them, it was fun to beat up the Jew. Many times, I was able to run away, but not always. One day they beat and kicked me so hard that my father had to take me to the hospital. After that, my father bought 2 big dogs and we trained them to pick me up from school. I felt safe with my dogs.
In 1956 my parents wanted to leave for Israel. They received all the necessary documents but ended up staying in Poland. In The Book of Memories of the Jews from Bielsk Podlaski, there is a quote that captures the Polish politics of the time: “The president of the national council […] said with sincerity: It will be sad without you in the town. Don’t leave, you have nothing to worry about. The old days are gone.” But this was not true. All Jews from Bielsk Podlaski left the town. My family moved to Bialystok.
In Bialystok, my best friend Boris Edelman told me stories of the lives of Jewish people, including his father, right after the war. Gangs of NSZ (a nazi underground military organization) would visit Jewish communities at night to murder Jews. Jewish men would sleep with guns under their beds to protect their families.
In 1962 I came to Warsaw to study. A year later I went to Srodborow. In September of 1963 counselors from different Jewish camps went to Srodborow on a vacation. That is where I met Lusia Zajac. In July 1967 we got married.
March 8, 1968, started as usual. Lusia went to the university, I went to work. It was her last year at university and I worked in the Department of City Planning. This day we decided to meet each other for dinner in the student dining room at the university. When we left the university, we saw something unexpected. Men in civil clothes were pushing students out of the gate. One of them grabbed one of Lusia’s hands and pulled her towards the gate. At the same time, others started to close the gate. I grabbed Lusia’s other hand and pulled her towards me screaming at them to let her go. I remember saying “don’t you see that they are beating up the students on the other side of the gate”.
At this very moment, my friends ran out of a nearby university building (used by the ZMS organization) and pulled us into the building with them. We went up to the third floor and watched through the window what was happening on the street. The police were beating the crowd with batons.
After a long time, the police informed the leaders of the ZMS that they would let us go. They created a tunnel by standing on both sides of us, and let us walk through. They were holding batons. The next day we learned that the demonstration had been organized by university students. Many of them were beaten and arrested. After these events and the first speech held by Secretary Gomulka, many families were getting ready to leave Poland. Lusia graduated from university and we knew she would not be able to get a job. Her parents said that we had to start thinking about leaving Poland. Lusia’s sister Maryla had left Poland earlier to visit the United States and ended up staying there. Lusia’s uncle and his family also lived in the United States.
Originally I did not want to leave, but that feeling did not last long. One day I went to work and quickly came back home. I was fired. My boss apologized and told me that if he did not let me go, he would also be fired. I came home feeling depressed and told Lusia that I was ready to leave. There was no reason to stay in Poland any longer. Lusia’s parents started getting us ready to leave. It was not very difficult because we did not have many things to take with us. We were still living with Lusia’s parents.
In the middle of January 1969, we were photographed for our documents and we went to the police to apply for permission to leave Poland. The police forced us to sign a document that renounced our Polish citizenship. They also told us that we had to leave Poland in two weeks. And that is what happened. Two weeks later we received the visas, which were only good for 24 hours. The visas were to Israel.
On February 2, we went with Lusia’s parents to the Gdansk train station. My parents and our friends all came to the station to say goodbye to us. My boss who fired me from my job came with a bouquet of red roses to say goodbye and to apologize again.
Lusia’s father gave the train station worker a bribe of 100 zlotych and he opened an empty compartment on the train for us. We had three suitcases and a sack with a comforter and pillows. My in-laws gave us a box with bottles of vodka, just in case we would need it. Of course, it was not for us to drink. It was cold. We were wearing sheepskin coats, specially bought for the trip. It was a sorrowful goodbye. We were going into the unknown. But we were together and that kept our spirits up.
When we arrived at the border to Czechoslovakia, two customs officers came to our compartment to check our luggage. They found Lusia’s diploma and wanted to take it away. She pointed to the dean’s signature and the university stamp, which were proof that she was allowed to bring her diploma with her. The officers were not sure what to do, and let her bring the diploma.
The officers also looked through our luggage. They claimed that we had brought too much luggage and told us to leave the train. We had to drag everything out of the train and they brought us into a station office. Lusia cried. A border control military officer came into the room, and after checking our documents he ordered the customs officers to put us back on the train. Our visas were only good for 24 hours. If we did not get on this train, we would not be able to cross the border and they would not know what to do with us.
We were finally leaving Poland. Firstly we went to Vienna, and then to Rome where we were waiting for our documents to go to the United States.
On October 1, 1969, we arrived at the John F. Kennedy airport, our final destination. We were in New York and started a new chapter in our lives, Now, we only waited for my in-laws and Lusia’s brother Wladek. My parents and my brother went to Israel.
When I left Poland, I felt betrayed by the country. I felt resentment. In the beginning, when I was getting accustomed to a new country, culture and language, I felt that I had lost something. Now I don’t regret leaving at all. I don’t feel Polish anymore; I don’t feel that I belong to that country or that people. That’s all.
(Source: Submitted story by Jakub Pogoda to Forgotten Exodus)
