with his life the way it had been. He also printed the “Poszukiwanie rodzin” (search for families) in Munich, These were booklets with lists of names of family members searching for loved ones. And he printed stamps that were used on inter-camp mail, which cost a few pennies but ended up raising quite a a bit of money for the Polish Red Cross. He was a designer, artist, publisher and entrepreneur before the war and the war did not change that.
The uniqueness of this particular copy of the book that was donated to the Auschwitz Memorial is the cover. It is in fact a piece of a striped uniform from a concentration camp. Where did this idea come from?
A lot of mention of that fact has been made in the Polish media, some of which makes it sound—if I understood the reviews correctly-- as though the use of the fabric is almost sacrilege. I don’t understand that suggestion at all. If the authors and my father could wear that fabric for months, if not years, it seems like an obvious choice of binding, from a design sense. It seems to me that it would have been a natural thing for him to illustrate what people became in the camps: no name, no title, just a number on a rough piece of cloth. So much of your personality is shown by how you dress, how you wear your hair. Those choices say something about you. The camps took all of that away. On the title page in the original, the numbers are larger and the names are smaller because you were a number. From a design perspective all those details have meaning. And he was a designer.
He did not only create a book, bound with a prisoner’s striped uniform. There's another copy that he made using leather from an SS uniform and some barbed wire that fenced a camp.
When he was a publisher in Poland, he would always make one copy or maybe two that was bound in leather as the “show copy” to send to exhibitions. The gold standard copy. He did the same with “Byliśmy w Oświęcimiu.” And what better material to use than the leather from the coat or jacket of the despised SS. And there was plenty of barbed wire around. You use what is available and what is relevant to the subject matter at hand.
At that time, he was a man on crossroad. He finally emigrated to the US, but did he ever think about coming back to Poland?
No, I don't believe he did. I know that he tried to talk Borowski out of going back to Poland because he felt that with the Russians there, the future did not look good for Poland. His wife and his mother had died, his friend and business partner had been killed, his business was destroyed; he felt he was better off going to the country that had liberated him. In addition, an American officer had given him a letter of introduction to a professor at Columbia University so he thought there might be the chance of employment when he got to the U.S.
Did he continue to publish books in the US?
He worked as an artist for a printing company for most of his career in the United States. He did not have a private publishing company, although he did print small editions for private clients over the years. When my father arrived he had no money, didn’t speak the language, and there was a lot of suspicion about foreigners. Instead, he worked at his job and painted as a creative outlet.
But finally, he settled and he found his place.
Yes, it wasn't anything like what it was in Poland, but I think he would have said that he had a good life here, not perhaps doing exactly what he would have liked to do, but I certainly hope it was a good life.
How do you remember him as a daughter? What kind of a father he was?
He was wonderful to me, but he wasn't the father that would go outside and play ball with you. But he told great stories. He made up stories to tell my sister and I me when we were little, you know, at night before going to bed. He was a creative person. He was funny, he liked to laugh. I always found it surprising to hear that survivors don't like to talk about their experiences because he didn't mind talking at all. He didn't feel the need to keep what he had experienced secret.
Besides the charming fairy tales, I grew up hearing vignettes from his childhood visits to Tartar encampments in Crimea, a child’s recollection of the Russian Revolution, and ultimately, war stories. It was a very different background than most of my friends. The only negative was that he suffered from what we now know as PTSD: he was always afraid that something bad would befall him family. From what little I’ve said about him here, I think you can understand why. Loss was big part of his life.
Your father’s book is now at the Auschwitz Memorial. How do you feel about this?
I think it's wonderful that it is there, that people will be able to see it. Obviously, it's very gratifying. Although my daughter has her own copy, I’m sure she will visit Auschwitz in the future and it will be exciting to see her grandfather’s contribution to history there at the museum. Also for the historical record, that it's preserved in its place of origin, so to speak, where people can access it. And of course, now there's the new edition of “Byliśmy w Oświęcimiu” published by Słowne that just came out, which is also tremendously gratifying.