CHAPTER 1
My Life in Poland
I am a lover of art, and the Metropolitan Museum is mylife. New York, the Big Apple, has fascinated me since mychildhood.
Driving over the Verrazano Bridge, seeing one of myfavorite landscapes of New York City, I hear the music in myears:
Take me back to New York CityTake me back to Manhattan
My limo stops next to the Metropolitan Museum, andhere I am in front of my favorite place in the world. The OldMasters are my particular interest. The incredible detailsand the portrait-like figures are something that I find quiteextraordinary. I wish that these faces could tell me a story ofthe past.
* * *
My life back at the village was quite different. I comefrom a small village of Osuchów in Poland. I was born to aChristian family and raised near a big parish, where we hada very active religious life.
My grandson Parker, who during childhood spent manymemorable times with me, has great fascination for art andhistory. He wants to know about the old days and what itwas like living in Poland. We spend many evenings in thekitchen drinking tea or sitting on a comfy couch in the livingroom, by the fireplace, and I tell him my rather unusual lifestory.
Back at the little village there was a great sense of acommunity, and everyone knew each other's business. Myparents had an entrepreneur spirit, managing their ownbusiness and always willing to help others. And then theunthinkable happened that changed and scarred the worldand its inhabitants forever. The Second World War creptin like a thief in the night, and Poland lost its innocence, itsfoundation shaken overnight. People's faith was determinedby the color of their eyes. Men were stripped of dignity atthe hands of the oppressors. Women were raped, and manychildren were left orphans. The villages were plundered bythe enemy, and death was everywhere, with no consolationto be found. The city of Warsaw was in ruins, with onlyremnant left of the beautiful old architecture.
People left the city for small villages and the countrysideto escape death, but instead many found themselves on atrain to the dark chambers. The old and the children weresubjected to this painful destiny. The enemy looked for theweak and the sick, which were thought to be of no use. Theyoung and the strong were sent to do hard labor.
The chamber of death was a dreadful place, with nohope of escape. The enemy tyrannized the helpless citizensof Poland. The ignorance and the cowardly actions wereof no concern to the oppressors. Did the enemy not realizethat eventually truth would stare them in the eye? For somemay take a lifetime to meet their destiny. At the end theywill account for their own doings, with no place to escape orhide. All will meet their own death or faith.
So the evil was unleashed, but in the midst of all, manyheroes and saints were discovered. These are the men andwomen who gave their lives for others. Some the worldwill never know. Few survivors remained to tell the storiesof courage and bear witness that the evil could not crushthe spirit, even in the greatest humiliation, with deathstaring them in the eye. The courage was present, and thecompassion for others superseded any fear of the enemy.Naked and humiliated, walking into chambers of darkness,surrendering their weak bodies to the enemy and to death,their spirits were brave; the enemy could not stop them fromnoble actions and the sacrifice to give up their own lives forothers.
This was a very dark period in Polish history. The evilcould not be stopped soon enough to protect war victimsfrom human cruelty. The world was looking for quicksolutions to stop this madness, but they were nowhere tobe found. In the hands of the oppressors, one's life had nomeaning. It was nothing more than a prey to satisfy a cause.As a young child I could not understand how one could goto such great extremes to prove a political point or justifythis type of action for a piece of land. Most mysteriousof all was how one man's conviction and cruelty couldcontaminate the masses.
Grandma, how devastating it is to know that one humanbeing is capable of such cruelty.
Parker, as if Poland did not go through enough withthe Nazis, toward the end of war, the Russian and Germanarmies fought on Polish territory, and everyone was evenmore scared and confused.
One early morning my father went about his business,and my mom went to get something.
Alone with my little sister and brother, I heard armytanks and gunfire on our street. Out of fear my siblings and Iall hid under the kitchen table. I threw a heavy wool blanketover us just to protect us from the onslaught of noise.
Our hearts were pounding, and we sat motionless underthe blanket, not knowing what to do. Suddenly the windowsbroke, and we heard the shattering of glass.
I was in a panic but had no clue what to do. The gunfiresubsided, but now I heard soldiers breaking through thedoor and looking for my parents.
I thought that we would die. I embraced my little sisterand my brother and waited for the unthinkable to happen.
We sat under the table hugging each other and crying.
I felt hopeless and overtaken by fear. The heavy footstepsand the loud voices could be heard all over the house.
Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice. One of our neighborsintervened on our behalf. He stated that this was a very nicefamily. He spoke Russian and was able to stop the enemyfrom further demolishing our house.
The enemy soldiers removed the glass from the blanketand helped us from under the table.
I must say that there were pieces of glass all over. If itwasn't for their help, we would not have been able to comeout unharmed.
My parents showed up sometime later, but for me it feltlike hours.
So you see, Parker, the music ceased in the streets ofPoland, and no longer would the youth congregate inbistros to speak freely and enjoy the social scene. Deathwas all around. Out of fear people would betray each other.This was devastating to witness and to live through. Theseimages of war can never be erased from my memory. WorldWar II left a deep scar on many, the old and the young. Themagnitude of this devastation was massive.
This had a dramatic impact on Poland's citizens andespecially on religious life. The new Marxist regimechanged ways of thinking, especially for the young. Thenext generation was forming different sets of rules andnew values of life. For me this was a great dilemma and amassive contradiction to my old set of values. So at home Imust live by Christian principles, which were diametricallyopposite to what I was taught at school. To me the Marxistregime was about being a follower and not a leader. TheChristian spirit was suppressed. No longer were the holidaytraditions welcome in our daily lives. Going to church wasa privilege, and no longer could one freely attend a mass,especially if one wanted to move up at work and receivebenefits from the government, which owned most of thebusinesses. The freedom to choose your own set of valuesand take your own path was stripped away. You simply didnot ask any questions but did what you were told. My careerand my future were dictated by the government.
And then the Western world had the aura of glamourand freedom, which had an incredible effect of my personallife. This was a great escape from reality and daily struggles.The Western romantic movies painted a perfect picturein my mind. The glamour and the wealth were things Idreamed of for my life. For the young this was simplyimpossible to resist. And yet another new phenomenonof women's liberation completely dramatized my ownexistence. This was a great enigma. I had to find myself, buthow? The new and old values no longer could be reconciled.Each path had a different destination. Seduction of the mindwas great.
Influenced by American culture through the Westernmovies, I had a passion for the "red carpet lifestyle." Theglamour and wealth of the high society intrigued me. I waslooking to live an extraordinary life in a big city.
Things did not turn out quite this way. Back in PolandI worked at the lab raising my young family. My husband,your grandpa, was always missing in action, studying to bea physician.
* * *
My life was not simple. One day arranging the closet I cameacross a document that caught my attention. This changedmy life forever.
At dinnertime, I asked my husband, George, about thereceipt that I found in his closet. He brushed this off withlittle interest. I was intrigued and persisted that we act uponit. The receipt stated that George owned an Old Master andthat it was with the government.
I knew that this was going to be a challenge. But so what?I could handle it. I am a dreamer and have always felt likeI am at the top of the world. Hey, it is a good thing to have.Raised in a small village, you've got to dream big. And thatis me. So I like to take things into my own hands.
Parker laughs. "Grandma, you're still the same ..."
I called Sophie, a good friend of mine, who worked atthe Academy of Science in Warsaw. She facilitated a meetingwith the government clerk.
Soon I was in Warsaw in front of a magnificent castleknown as Palac Staszica. A bit intimidating, I must say.I came with my little daughter, Paula (your mother),to meet my friend at the castle, her place of work. Themagnificent and overpowering door stopped me dead atfirst. Holding my little bundle and trying to open this door,was quite a challenge. Upon entering the palace, I was a bituncomfortable and felt out of place. Everyone looked veryproper and polite but rather cold.
Sophie came out to meet me, as always with a greatsmile. Her presence changed the atmosphere. The womensurrounded me, admiring my little bundle of love.
I entered a big office and waited for the governmentofficial who was going to assist me in this matter. He wasimpatient and had little time for me. I presented the receiptand asked him when I would be able to obtain this painting.He was vague about its whereabouts but said that he wouldget back to me in few weeks.
Weeks passed by, and no one contacted me from thegovernment office. I asked my friend Sophie whether shemight inquire about my case. As always, Sophie was agreat help. The next day I received a phone call from thegovernment clerk informing me that the painting was in thePolish embassy in Paris.
I have made numerous attempts to retrieve this painting.It was considered an Old Master, and the government wasin no hurry to return it. I had to come up with a differentplan since the conventional method was not working. I had afriend in the French embassy in Warsaw who was very wellconnected with the Polish embassy in France.
We met for lunch at a local bistro. Laura was always upto something. I was jealous of her international lifestyle. Shealways looked stunning and had many admirers. I wanted tohave Laura's lifestyle.
Well, back to business. We spoke of many different ideasand options. Laura tried very hard through her influentialfriends at the embassy to help me retrieve this masterpiece,with no success.
A few weeks later, Laura and I met again at a local bistrofor coffee. We were never short of imagination.
"Laura," I said, "if we are going to do this, let's do it rightand start from the very top."
She laughed. "Allison, you mean the general counsel ofthe Polish embassy?"
"Oh no, I mean the very top."
Laura paused and started laughing. She got it. "Allison,are you crazy? There is no way that we can ask de Gaulle,the Prime Minister of France."
"Why not? You can do it. Laura, you have the contactsand the personality. Just try ..."
We both laughed, knowing that this was just a crazyidea. But we had a good time talking nonsense.
"Grandma, why would you even think that aninternational political figure would get involved insomething so trivial?"
"Well, Parker, to me this was my life; I wanted thispainting more than anything else. Can you only imaginehanging on the wall a sixteenth-century painting? Especiallyin my humble apartment—and showing it off to my friends.This would be a sensation ... perhaps a scandal."
"I guess you have a point, Grandma, but de Gaulle is astretch."
* **
Laura called to inform me that de Gaulle was planning avisit to Poland. What a great coincidence. "This is fantastic.This is our chance, Laura."
"Look, I like you, Allison, and I want to help, but this Icannot do."
"Let's think of some clever way to get in touch with him.
"How? He is surrounded by so many people. There is noway that I will have access to him."
"Laura, we can't let this opportunity pass us by. No way.This is too good to be true. De Gaulle is visiting Poland?How often does this happen?"
"So what is your idea, Allison? And how I am supposedto do this? I will not get even a second with him."
"There is a way. I have an idea."
"Okay, go ahead tell me that I throw myself at him andfall into his arms, and he will take me home with him."
I laughed. "Let's not get so dramatic, Laura."
* * *
Life at home was not so exciting and easy. Daily work androutine were quite a challenge. George (your grandfather),always missing in action and studying to be a physician, wastaking a toll on all of us. I felt that all the burden of raisinga young family was on my shoulders. Working long hoursat the lab did not give me much time to spend with my twodaughters, Karina and Paula, and take care of the house.
Our marriage was taking a heavy toll. Daily conflicts andarguments seemed to be more and more intense. Georgeacted like a college student with little concern for the familyfinancial situation and also not much effort to take care ofthe girls and the house.
My patience was wearing thin. I needed a solution butwas not sure what to do. Confronting George was of no use.We argued, which added more tension to the family with noresults.
* * *
I received an unusual phone call from a woman who seemedto be very upset. At first I was confused, not understandingher problem. A few minutes into the conversation I learnedthat my husband was having an affair. Trying to get revengeon George, she had decided to let me know about herrelationship with him.
Completely perplexed by this situation, I did not knowhow to respond. I told her that fooling around with amarried man would get her nowhere. I hung up the phonequite shaken by this news. What audacity. What was shelooking for? My sympathy?
Confronting George would only result in a massiveargument. My patience with him was exhausted. What elsewas he up to? No money, no time with the kids, and now anaffair. I was done. The burden was taking a very heavy tollon me and the girls.
* * **George walked through the door. I was about to confronthim but tried to keep my cool. He joined us for dinner as ifnothing happened. He was clearly unaware of the phone callthat I received from his mistress. The kids were sitting in thekitchen and eating dinner. This will be an ugly confrontation,I thought, and I did not want the girls to be in the middle ofour messy marriage.
After dinner, the girls went to bed, and I was alone withGeorge. He asked me why I was so quiet and upset. Well,this was a perfect moment to bring up his mistress.
"George," I said, "who is Diana?"
"Oh just a colleague of mine at the University.Occasionally we work on projects together."
Hmm, I thought, he always has an answer to everything.
"Well, what type of project are you working on now withDiana?"
"Why do you care, and why suddenly it is so importantto you?"
I was trying not to blow up, but it was difficult not to losecontrol.
"George, I got a call from Diana today and she informedme that she is your mistress."
"Oh no, Allison, she is crazy. She's been hitting on mefor the last few months. That is all. You know that I loveyou, and no one but you in my life. The woman is just out ofcontrol. She is hitting on everyone. She is a slut."
Don't they all say this? I thought. I knew in my heart thathe was having an affair and that Diana was his mistress.
"George, I don't believe you! You are a womanizer, andyou have affairs everywhere." He flatly denied it. There wasno point in arguing. I just had enough, and I did not believehim.
* * *
Laura was a great distraction from my daily problems.She called me and asked to meet her for lunch. We alwayshad great times and many laughs together. I needed thatmore than anything else: George's cheating and my dailyresponsibilities had just worn me down.
