Then to now

Posted on September 16, 2025 by Janette Silverman

Last week (actually only a few days ago) I was staring off into the vast Baltic, looking towards Hel, marveling at the fairytale town, the beautiful beach and town of Sopot, and so much more. One thing that strikes me now is that for 3 weeks no matter how crowded the streets I was walking on, I was never distracted by conversations going on around me. In Lithuania and Poland, I passed few people speaking English, I would catch a random word here and there in French, Polish, Hebrew, Ukrainian. Sometimes I walked past people speaking English with an English, Irish, Scottish, South Africa, Australian, or Kiwi accent. None of what they were speaking about ever distracted me.

Today, walking on the boardwalk in Long Beach, New York, looking out at the vast Atlantic, seeing in the distance a line of container ships, and perhaps even a glimpse of the New Jersey coast, I was constantly distracted by voices. No, I wasn’t imagining the voices – they were definitely not internal. Lots of people walk, bike, and run on the boardwalk and this morning was no exception. What I heard wasn’t unusual. Perhaps the same conversations were going on around me in Poland and Lithuania but I didn’t know because I couldn’t understand the languages. What distracted me was the intimate details of peoples’ lives that were being share in voices loud enough to hear not only as I walked past people but for many more steps. Whole soap operas were being revealed, detailed pictures of people’s financial state, their divorces, affairs, medical issues.

I sure do miss these random windows into peoples’ lives, the smell of the salt sea, the sound of the waves, of the runners on the boardwalk, the cry of the gulls, the sight of surfers. The Baltic was nice to visit, but the Atlantic is my home even though I live thousands of miles away in the southwest desert.

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Refresh my memory!

Posted on September 14, 2025 by Janette Silverman

About five years ago, a friend was talking to me about Varian Fry, who my friend considers a personal hero. He asked if I knew of Varian Fry, and when I admitted I did not, he sent me a copy of a book, Surrender on Demand. Once I started reading it, I realized I knew of Varian Fry, but beyond the most general information, didn’t know any details. We speak of the victims of the Holocaust, we speak of the refugees who survived, and only occasionally do some of us (me included) consider all the details of how help was provided, visas acquired, and the networks that developed to get people out of Europe.

I do a significant amount of research for families searching to find out about their relatives who were murdered during the Shoah, and who may also be searching for survivors. If you’ve read my old blog postings, you know I found my own family’s survivors and those murdered through research. Finding my cousin, who I call sister, Ella, was a result of that research.

Over the decades, more and more has been written about the rescuers, the rescued, and the victims. Heroism has come to light. Thanks to the internet, so much is easily accessible. There are so many heroes who spent their lives during and after the war providing help. Chiune Sempo Sugihara, a Japanese career diplomat serving in Kaunas, Lithuania issued thousands of transit visas allowing them to leave Europe. Raoul Wallenberg, a Swedish diplomat in Hungary issued thousands of protective letters for Jews, Frank Foley working in Berlin for the British Secret Service issued thousands of visas. After the war, Father Patrick Desbois, learning his grandfather’s story embarked on work to uncover and record information about the murders of over 1.5 million Jews in Ukraine. These are of course just a few of the people who stepped up to help and make a difference.

For several years, I served on the Education Committee of the Anti-Defamation League of Arizona. One of the programs involved students writing essays about people who were heroes. I was privileged o be a reader of the essays. Many of those featured in the essays were upstanders during the Shoah. Among them was Varian Fry, who operated in Vichy France, helping people evacuate, and providing others with financial assistance or employment.

Recently, I began a project investigating someone who escaped Europe from Vichy France, by way of Lisbon. As I began thinking about the project, I realized this was exactly the work Varian Fry and his team did. I thought of him because of that long ago conversation and the book. It turns out that Fry’s papers are held at Columbia University’s Rare Book and Manuscript Library. I hope to have an appointment to review his papers in a couple of weeks. Even if I don’t find exactly what I’m looking for, I’ll probably gain more insight into how he worked and accomplished helping thousands of people leave.

While I was searching for his papers, I came across a fairly new (2023) series on Netflix about Fry’s work, called “Transatlantic.” It’s now on my “must see next list” as soon as I return from my next trip!

No matter how much I think I know, there’s still always so much more to learn.

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Time to return home

Posted on September 13, 2025 by Janette Silverman

I have to admit that a 6 AM flight is very early. In the U.S. when I often fly east at that hour, it isn’t awful – I know what to expect from a pre-arranged pick-up to take me to the airport which is 12 minutes away. I know what check-in at the airport will be like, and how to get through the system. It was slightly more stressful leaving Gdansk. I was staying at a hotel, and arranged in advance for a cab at 3:30 AM. Although I was assured that the airport was easy to get through, and the drive there wouldn’t take long, I was still concerned – would I even be awake enough to keep track of my passport, get coffee, etc.

The streets in Gdansk were pretty empty. Maybe I should have gone outside this early on other days. Check out at the hotel was easy, as was the drive. I prided myself on finding my flight on the big board, and locating where I should be to check bags, and went there. It looked like check-in should open at 4 but it didn’t. Concerned, I went to an agent from another airline and asked. She said what I had seen on the board was the gate, not the area for check-in. Ooops. I found the right place, and sky priority had no one on the line but there was an agent. She had me checked in and bags tagged in just a few minutes, and I got through security easily. Then I got lost in the maze of the duty free shops. It doesn’t look like it’s possible to get to the gate area ever without first going through duty free shopping. I had some Polish currency left and used it to purchase some chocolate (of course).

The flight was only about an hour and very smooth. The change from one flight to another was the same as on the inbound trip – a bus from the plane which felt like it was taking almost as long as the plane ride, finally got to the main terminal area. From there through passport control, where I needed to make an extra stop to get my passport stamped, and I was on my way, hiking through the Amsterdam airport, stopping for coffee on the way.

The big window told me that the heavens were overjoyed that I was on my way home!

After the very variable weather (cold, rainy, steaming hot, rainy) in Lithuania and Poland made the weather sign showing no weather changes in SLC!

Picking up bags in Salt Lake City was so smooth – about 20 minutes from landing, through passport control and customs, and then through security again. The ease of global entry is wonderful. Face recognition, acknowledgement, name called, no lines. On to the next flight and on the way home. About 19 hours after I left the hotel in Gdansk on a pleasantly cool morning, I reached the heat and dryness of a typical late summer day in Phoenix. Home to do laundry, unpack and repack for another 6 AM flight on Monday to NY.

Onward to the next adventure!

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Click your heels together three times

Posted on September 11, 2025 by Janette Silverman

Anyone that saw me hobbling around today probably would have thought I was injured. I wasn’t, but the cobblestones and my feet I think were having a serious argument. I wear a lot of barefoot sandals and sneakers. These have proven to be my favorite walking shoes all over the world. Apparently I should not have been wearing them so much on cobblestones. Yesterday’s marathon walk was followed by a rainy walk this morning, and the rain shoes I brought with me have a similar thickness (or lack thereof in the sole). I was trying not to wear any shoes I couldn’t easily dry since I knew I needed to pack. Thankfully, the rain stopped and I was able to change my shoes to something with a thicker sole.

I’m anxious to get home – I’ve been gone for a little over 3 weeks and stuff piles up that needs to be dealt with once I get back. I am sad to be leaving here though. We’ve been based in Vilnius and Kaunas, Lithuania, and Warsaw, Krakow, and Gdansk, Poland. Except for Gdansk, I’ve visited the other cities several times, and spend enough time just walking around each of them to feel comfortable there. Three days into Gdansk and I’m just getting a feel for how to get around. I need another couple of weeks here!

I spent a couple of hours early this morning during the worst of the downpour working – catching up on emails, getting into some proofreading. By the time the rain had tapered off I was ready to get outside, after all, it’s my last day here.

The Motława river runs through Gdansk and there are many bridges crossing it, For several hours I wandered from one side to the other.

The mixture of centuries-old buildings and new construction is wonderfully integrated. Occasionally in this packed tourist destination I could pick out a word or two from the conversations surrounding me. I’m sure though that whatever I thought I heard, did not mean what I thought it did – I don’t know any of these languages. There are words that sound like other words and the best I can say is that I didn’t try to converse with anyone!

In addition to conversations, there are hawkers trying to bring customers into their restaurants, musicians playing guitars, accordions, trumpets, and more on the streets, canned music playing from restaurants, laughing children, yapping dogs – a cacophony of the sounds of people enjoying themselves.

The alleys here aren’t really alleys – they are thick medieval walls from the old city walls that allow passage into (and out of) the city

So much here that needs, demands, to be investigated. I guess the only thing to do is to return. Someday.

Oh, all these photos while I’ve been on this journey? About 1100 of them. I’ve only shared a few! Some of them will form the outline of presentations I’ll be designing over the next few months for upcoming programs.

Back to the U.S. tomorrow. Heading for home long enough to deal with laundry, unpacking, and repacking, and then off to NY on Monday to take care of family stuff. After seeing the Motława and the Baltic, I decided that before I head back to the desert, I need a bit more ocean sights, sounds, and smells, so I’ll be staying at a hotel on the beach!

Onward to the next adventure.

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The call of the gulls

Posted on September 10, 2025 by Janette Silverman

I know this is kind of strange. Anyone who knows me even just a little will tell you I am not a person who enjoys camping. I have to admit that the few times I’ve stayed in a cabin have been, to put it mildly, a total sleepless disaster. I have hiked in the woods, but saw giant bugs behind every flower and tree. Just not my thing. Two types of places though vie for my attention and I can never choose which is my favorite – the beach and ocean or the city (any beach or ocean and any city really).

Today, we took trains to Gdynia and Sopot. The former is a giant port and has an amazing museum, the latter is a spa town and has a wonderful boardwalk and beach. We got off the train first in Gdynia, and within a few minutes I heard gulls and smelled that unique salt water smell. Shortly after we were in sight of the Baltic.

We headed for what I have to say turned out to be the most amazing museum I have ever visited. We lucked out because today was a free day – no tickets to purchase. All the exhibits were on the floor above the ground floor. We went upstairs, there were story boards, and it was kind of blah. Then I noticed people going inside a doorway and followed and I was so impressed. The exhibit was huge.

It started with background and a historical perspective and drew you in. There were seats like on an airplane, a fiat, a configuration to resemble a ship, and so much more.

I learned about housing, electricity, media, infrastructure, food, the causes of emigration and much more. The exhibit went into a lot of detail, and I quickly realized how much of a gap I have in knowledge. Startling information like

I should have realized that the potato famine in Ireland did not just affect the Irish.

So much information to absorb and incredibly well presented. If you are in Gdynia make sure you visit the Emigration Museum.

Several hours after we arrived, we were ready to leave the museum, but needed food. Our friend and colleague David met us and took us to a wonderful pierogi restaurant. Such creative combinations for the stuffing.

After lunch Ola said she had a surprise for me, and when we got on the train, she said we’d stop at Sopot.

We made it back to Gdansk before nightfall, but not before we walked 25,891 steps. That certainly called for ice cream and pastry for dinner.

Such a beautiful city. Tomorrow is my last day in Poland – it’s time to go home. I plan to walk around Gdansk most of the day, and drink it all in.

Oh, wait – I didn’t mention our glance at Hel! There, in the distance is the Polish town of Hel.

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Train ride to a fairytale

Posted on September 9, 2025 by Janette Silverman

Except for England and France, I’ve never been on a train in Europe and didn’t know what to expect on the 5 hour trip from Krakow to Gdańsk. The answer is, a pretty comfortable ride with water brought around, if you’re in 1st class there are snacks, and for everyone, there is always the dining car. Seats are comfortable and equipped with power. The views are most;y of pastoral landscapes with an occasional river.

…and then there’s Gdańsk. I don’t even know how to describe it so I’ll let more photos do the talking.

Yes, that is a pirate ship above, and a bridge had to be gotten out of the way to let it through!

The bridge swivels on its base, but probably takes at least half an hour to open, let the boat through and close. Maybe longer!

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Mechanical Failure

Posted on September 8, 2025 by Janette Silverman

So, the lesson is that if you get a pop-up message on a device, try to figure out exactly what it says and why. I must have inadvertently changed a setting on my camera and almost all my photos from 2 days worth of travel look like the darkest night.

When I get home next week I’ll really have to figure this out. The good thing was that I realized (finally) that I needed to change a setting and did.

Of course, since I’ve been to all the places where these photos were shot several times previously, I can just go into my files and pull out others. But still.

I’m excited that tomorrow Ola and I will be taking off for Gdańsk. I’ve never seen the Baltic, and never been in this part of Poland, so the next few days will be really interesting. Today Ola and I went in search of the new archive in Krakow, and the building, while difficult to find, looks amazing. We didn’t have any research we needed to do onsite, and I do miss the quirky old place in Stare Miasto, but a new, climate controlled, protected space for all those old records is more to the point tnhan me liking quirky buildings!

In Gdańsk and nearby Gdynia, we’ll be looking at archives, and most importantly, visiting the relatively new Emigration Museum. We’ve been told that there are departure manifests there, and I am very eager to go searching through the material to see if we can find documents for clients whose ancestors left from there.

We’ll be taking a train and the trip is about 5 hours. I’ve not traveled by train in Poland before, so the experience will be noteworthy. Another adventure!

I wish I had more time to wander around Krakow. There’s tons to see, lots of restaurants and music everywhere! The last time I was here was in 2019, and I thought I’d be back the following spring. COVID had other plans for all of us. This time, I don’t have any plans in the works to return, but I sure hope something comes up soon.

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The Salt Mines

Posted on September 8, 2025 by Janette Silverman

The Wieliczka Salt Mine was likely the driver of the economy in the area for hundreds of years. During the partitions of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth in the 18th century, it fell under control of the Austrian Empire.

The operation of the mine, and its subsequent design as a major tourist attraction including a large spa, are amazing. If you visit the Krakow area, this is one of the “must see” spots everyone should have on their agenda.

There is a part of the history that is not included on the website for the mine, and that’s the history of the Jewish community in that area. Before Wieliczka came under Austrian rule, Jews were not allowed to settle there, and settled nearby in Klasno. After the partitions, Jews were permitted to settle in Wieliczka and opened many shops and factories including a tannery, a sawmill, tile and brick factories, and vidka and liquor factories. By 1924, Klasno was incorporated into Wieliczka, where, by the time World War II began, Jews comprised about 50% of the population.

The Germans created a forced labor camp on the site of the salt mine, and interned about 1,700 people to work in a factory located in the mind producing military aircraft. The work on aircraft was quickly halted as the Soviets moved in and the Jews were sent to other factories. Wieliczka as well as other salt mines was used to store plundered art.

I know I keep returning to these same themes. It’s so difficult for me not to do that. I know the war years are not the extent of the history of Jews in Europe, but the trauma of those years, even for those of us born after the war, is a recurring theme, the Jewish presence is felt all over, in every town where there once was a community. Its presence lingers strongly in signs, street names, even memorial plaques when there seems to be nothing remaining. There are certainly no living Jews except for the occasional tourist that is in any of these places, and I imagine that many Poles have never met a Jew although not that long ago, Jews were the majority of the population in so many places.

As we walked around Stare Miasto, the old city of Krakow, we found ourselves on a street with a parade. First we saw a group of scouts and behind them bagpipes and the most hateful signs imaginable.

There was a large police presence to keep the peace. The marchers were against abortions, gay rights, any education that was not religiously oriented. In other words, they, like the Nazis wanted everyone to think the same, act the same, be the same. They want control over everything – speech, dress, education, thought. Maybe I’m too much a child of the sixties – if you don’t like what someone is doing, you don’t have to do that yourself, but don’t tell me what I can and cannot do unless my actions are a danger to others.

I didn’t mean to get political here, so I’ll move on to the beauty of the city.

It’s so easy to imagine, with the ancient buildings, the cobble stones and the clopping of the horses that we are in a world of the 19th century.

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Remembrance

Posted on September 6, 2025 by Janette Silverman

Not a day should go by where we don’t each say the name of someone lost to the world in the midst of the Shoah. Not a day should go by where we don’t consider some of the events that happened during that very dark time and compare them to the freedoms being lost, the freedoms being withdrawn, humanity of classes of citizens being questioned and denied, freedom of speech, freedom to worship, to work, to learn, to read, all being challenged not for the good.

The solemnity of the day spent trudging the streets, the dirt, the stones of Auschwitz-Birkenau. The day was perfect – gray, rainy, a little foggy. Perfectly disgusting weather. Perfect for setting a mood of a gray pall.

We should laud the courage of those who endured and laud the courage of those who died with hope in their hearts, of those who struggled, who dreamed, who did what ever it was they needed to do. And we shouldn’t forget the children who never saw another butterfly.

Their struggles, tears, fears, anger, fright, despondency should give us courage to stand up now.

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The Yin and the Yang of It

Posted on September 5, 2025 by Janette Silverman

When I’m in Eastern Europe I feel so pulled. On the one hand cities, like Krakow are so beautiful, Warsaw represents how all ruins don’t have to remain, but some should, and other cities, towns, villages, have their own sense of beauty and purpose. But still, I feel torn. I’m admiring the tenacity of the people, the structures they built, their attempts at preserving the memories of a culture and a people who to a large degree remain vacant from the places where they once represented more than 50% of the population. I’m also forever haunted by the energy of the people who were violently uprooted from their homes, their families, their lives, I have such trouble reconciling being here. I’m not here on a pleasure trip. My trips to Eastern Europe are all work trips. I can’t even imagine coming here for pleasure, for a vacation, although it’s clear that many do.

The streets here and elsewhere have reminders of what happened – it’s impossible to get away from the screams imbedded in the cobblestones, soaked into the soil. If we don’t bear witness, somehow live through the pain that threatens at every step to grab onto our ankles, and hold you fast to these stones, then no one will remember the events, the people, their names, something of their lives.

I feel that I’m missing the words that will clearly express the pain I feel, and yet, and yet…it’s not the fault of these cobblestones, the grains of sand, the bricks on the houses. Those things didn’t cause the horror. They, like we, stood as witnesses. What would or could we have done had we been here? How would we have responded to the events?

Growing up, there was an amazing couple who lived next door – Eli and Felicia. They were my parents’ age, but had seen and lived through so much more. I first knew them about 1960. They had mysterious numbers tattooed on their arms. They were warm, loving people, their daughter was my friend. Their son was just my friend’s little brother. In spite of growing up in Krakow and spending part of their teenage years in Auschwitz, they took such joy in their family, the people around them. They were gentle-spoken people, and were so kind. How did they come out of the terror intact at least outwardly? Could I have been that brave or would I have succumbed to the nightmare that life must have been? It’s hard to imagine how things would have been if I lived a slightly different life, if my ancestors had not, unknowingly, anticipated these events, and escaped them, fleeing from something not yet in existence, to find a relatively safe spot to live.

The yin and the yang of it all…

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