We believed that we simply had to help – the account by Adam Przybyła

A young Jew named Jankiel Feigemen worked with us, too. His parents died early in Przedbórz so young Jankiel had to earn a living on his own. He operated farm machinery. Everyone treated him well. He was very friendly and helpful.

After Germans attacked Poland in September 1939, Jewish persecutions began. Jankiel sabotaged German orders and went in hiding in manor houses and in my parents’ house. He would come to our house to eat and shave. My mum washed his clothes for him.

We made a tunnel inside a haystack, so that Jankiel could hide during the day. He came out at night to get some fresh air. My sister Marianna came to his hiding place with food and water, which we gave to him at an agreed sign of foot stamping.

Once, we were denounced by someone who told Germans that we were harbouring a Jew, which was punished by death. Seeing approaching Germans, my father, Władysław, hid Jankiel between the roof and a hay lining below the roof, covering Jankiel with rubbish. Germans did not find anyone and left.  Another time, when Jankiel was at home, some strangers came near our house and called Jankiel. My father kicked them out and told Jankiel to stay in, warning him that they wanted to kill him.

Jankiel Feigeman stayed in our house until the end of the war, witnessing the entrance of the Red Army on 17 September 1945. He signed up for the Citizens’ Militia (MO) in Opoczno. Having served a few years, he was released and began to work as a janitor in Ceramic Tiles Works no 3 in Opoczno. He died  in this city.

We thought that we simply had to help because you live also for others. My sister Marianna and I often talk about these difficult times and recount them to our grandchildren and great-grandchildren during our family reunions.

English translation: Wanda Jóźwikowska