Authors: Jay M. Londo
We walked about a quarter mile through narrow, winding city streets. That had been turned into a makeshift
prison. The many streets completely devoid of cars, there was no need, as I could see it there was nowhere we could possibly drive. Walking to the apartment building, I could not help becoming conscious of all the people that were out about. They walked like
they
did in the big city, but there was not exactly putting on the same kind of air I felt when I was in Warsaw. People scarcely looked up from whatever it was they were doing as we walked by. Oh my gosh! There were what I believed to be a dead man just laying in the gutter, and no one was doing anything about it. This sent chills down my spine, as the realization was setting in. Maybe this was going to be worse than a prison, I felt like we were all in a pit of despair. All the sadness of everyone's eyes. They all look like they had lost such a great deal, maybe the people around me could see nothing to look forward to, and now had simply given up, like a beaten dog, that
had been
trampled much too much, or they could not see a possibility of how things could get any better from here. They just went about their days, and do what was told of them.
Then wondered did I give the impression of looking like they did. Had the Germans successfully broke my will as well? Had I let them get to me that much? I didn’t know, but I could see the utter transformation that had occurred in my own family dynamics.
Now it was just our family. The others families had broken off from us. For the first time in all these many
months. We were being led to a six-story building directly up ahead.
An older woman all dressed in her finest clothes, which had started tattering, looked towards me. She had a look of being lost, or perhaps confused, she had just come up to me, put her hand gently on my shoulder, she said, “Excuse me miss have you seen my husband? If you see him, you be sure to let me know, won’t you?”
I looked at her, showing compassion - even though I figured her husband had passed on.
“I will Ma’ am, I promise!”
Then she began walking on - I turned and watched as she asked another person the exact same thing. I felt bad for her. But, there was nothing I could do for her. Once we had gone through the front lobby of the building we would be staying, it was not much to look at, a rundown looking building, un-kept, unclean. We than had to walk up four flight of stairs, before we finally arrived, and stopped on the fourth floor, thankfully for us we were not heading to the six floor. We were all frail at this point had not eaten in at least three days, or had even a drop of water. Poppa
being the worst. He was breathing hard, but he did not complain.
The young woman, in a soft timid sort of voice, spoke up, "Folks, it just this way! Just down the hall."
We walked down a long poorly lit, narrow hallway - the tile flooring was dirty, most of the grout was missing
and as
cracked tiles. We were not alone as we walked down the hall; there were a couple of younger children playing in the hall at the time, two little boys and an even younger little girl. I glanced down at them as there were sitting down playing a game, I introduced myself, “Hello My name is Hana, and this is my family, do you live on this floor?”
One of the two boys, the youngest, was missing three of his front teeth. He pointed down the hall.
“Hello there!” The little girl responded, smiling, glade to see us, it seemed they were alone as both their parents were off working.
We walked right on by them until we finally came to a dark colored door, apartment number #443, three doors down to the right from the stairs.
The young woman then began driving through her pile of keys, attempting to find the right key for the door. Taking at least two
minutes, and a hundred keys to locate the correct on fitting the lock.
“Now listen up folks, always lock the door when leaving, people are hungry here, and they would not think twice at coming in and stealing your food!”
Able to finally hit upon the right key for the door lock. She unlocked the door, and opened it up. The rusty hinges creaked as the door opened. She walked in first, making sure it was clear, making sure she had gotten the right apartment. Then she began
a
faux - ostentatious tour of our new apartment, or what I would say what little apartment there was of it. The first thing about the place that caught my attention was the stale, musty air. Not much to look at it was a rundown, and needed a proper cleaning to be fit for humans. As we walked in, there was a rat that ran across the floor.
My family and I were shown the two-bedroom house; each bedroom had a queen size bed, and a chair, and a small dresser, but not room for much more. Out in the main room, that included a small kitchen, dining room, and a living room. There was a well-used dining room table, a vase with dried up flowers. The table had with four chairs placed around it. One of the chairs had a broken leg. In the living room, there were two no so comfortable sitting chairs a coffee table - and a fireplace with a mantle. In the small kitchen, there was a small wood stove, a sink with what looked like hot water! I did not think I would miss it so much, actual hot water! As well as a small icebox, of course no ice.
A few-cupboard
situated, above the counter. Then there was also a cast iron bathtub, and a clothesline. It was clear whoever’s apartment this was must have left in a hurry, seeing most of their personal possessions seemed to be left behind, complete dish sets, probably quite old, and blankets, furniture, and some pictures, and other assorted knick-knacks. The question I had was why had they left in such a hurry? Was it when the Germans had invaded? Spotting all the belongings, I thought about all that we had sacrificed ourselves, to get to this point, what we had to leave behind, things that had been handed down several generations, to end up here. I had a pretty
-
good idea how excruciating that must had been on this family, wondering where they ever ended up.
Marym asked the young woman, “Excuse me miss, where exactly is the bathroom situated?”
“Well the bathroom not located in the apartment, but rather it was situated down at the end of the hall we came in on, communal shared with five other apartments, all the apartment on this floor.”
Marym and I both looked at one another, not so sure about this place! Then she commented, “With the exemption of a bathtub, which was in the kitchen. Ok this was something I was not use too. The bathroom not located in the apartment.”
This young woman was very withdrawn - she did not bother commenting on such manners. She also never voluntarily divulged her own name to us. She was quite pretty in fact, very kind eyes, she handed over Poppa the key to the front door. At the same time the woman handed Poppa a map with directions were things were situated throughout the Ghetto, and on the other side of the paper, exactly what was expected of every – single resident.
She looked much like us, in that her clothing was a bit tattered, her hair was on the neglected side, and she was a slight bit on the light side, it was clear she had barely been eating. Quite pale, appeared to be unhappy - this was clear, just by observing her facial expressions, and body mannerisms. I could see it in her face. Her lonely eyes were dark and puffy, from I am sure lack of sleep, and I think she did a good deal of crying!
She half fact smiled, as she was preparing to head off, "Well I'm sorry it's not more. This is the best we could do for you folks. We had many more families showing up all the time, they just keep coming, and coming. Before long I am afraid, we will not had any more housing available to go around. Then I do not know what we shall do. It was lovely meeting you folks! I am sure you had not eaten in a spell. When we are done here, you probably should head to the commissary to hopefully have a chance to take delivery of your family’s food rations - that is if they had arrived, and are available! It a bit hit and miss. Go as soon as you can, - you do not dare wait…there will be a huge line. Check all so the community boards for the availability of jobs, those that work get better rations and they will be permit you to maintain your housing. If you do not work, there will be no food rations given to the family. There are very strict rules here. With no exceptions, strictly enforced"
With an inquisitive gaze, Poppa asked her, “Excuse me miss, but how long had you been here, at Tuliszkow?”
“Two month and three days, and I had to say I absolutely hate it here, we have all been made prisoners in our own country, at the Nazi’s whim. The comportment with which the Germans treat the Jewish population, just for the fortune of being born Jewish. Before the Germans
had invaded. I had my own home, I was happily married for five years, I had a little boy, he had such a good spirit about him, looked just like his father, and I was a schoolteacher.” She paused looking at her hands.”
“But then since coming here, none of us had been barely been given enough to eat. There are no schools for the children, and no medical care, except the most basic, but t
here is no access to medicine.
With-out-much food, and then the cold winter we just had, not enough clothing to stay warm, about a month ago a German soldier brutally - shot my husband in cold blood - when he had only been trying to get medicine for my ill son, who was suffering from pneumonia. Now they are both gone, taken away from me, I have no family left. The rest of my family passed on when the Germans first attacked. I have nothing to live for.”
She started to wail!