Szaszka

SASZKA

The new issue of REUNION68 has arrived.
A few obituaries again. And not just from your parents' generation.
Michał, Jurek, Sonia, Franka, and Saszka.Your shelf has started to crumble too.
So much has already been transferred to Abraham's bosom from these sixteen Amhu (one of us) who passed through your school class.

Saszka left this world last year.
Nothing about him REUNION68 because he left Poland very early.
If not Lenka, you wouldn't know about his departure.
The last time you saw him was during your visit to Melbourne.
Also thanks to Lenka, because if it weren't for her, you would never have gone there.
That's how you had your private reunion after 50 years of not seeing each other.
What do you remember from that evening at the hotel on Cromwell Road?
Almost nothing. But it was as if you had never been apart.

Saszka is a recollection of your first school years.
You started in the Hebrew school on Krasińskiego Street.
The school was in an outbuilding, accessible through a burnt-out front tenement house.
You didn't mind going to school on Sundays because Saturdays were free.
You were in your schoolmistress's good books because she was dating your uncle.
That's why you were chosen to ask these four questions at the school Seder. All the next month, you were very popular in Niebuszewo quarter: "This is he who asked the Four Kashes!"

Then everything changed. Your uncle broke up with the teacher lady, and the Hebrew school closed shortly after. You moved to the Peretz (Yiddish) School for the rest of the year. You met children with whom you were at the summer camp at Bartoszewo a year earlier. At Bartoszewo camp, you were one of the skinny boys, and that's how they remembered you. They didn't know that you came to Perec School with the burden of a year spent together with the urchins on Slaska Street. So you ended up on the "donkey's" bench almost every day because you beat one of the Bartoszewo children.

You started the second grade in a "normal" school because your parents couldn't manage to keep the daily notes in the school diary.
The new school was something completely different. TPD (Childrens Friends Society) No. 1 on Małopolska Street.
The first brainwashing. The first ideological intoxication. Willingness to participate in the defense of and work for the Polish People's Republic. And the desire to participate in the First May parade!
Yes. That was something!
Not everyone from our school could take part in the parade.
Only classes which were best in studying and "social work".
You were eight years old then.
On that day, you ran to school in the morning, even though you knew well that second grades did not take part in the parade. But just the view of the school orchestra and the "chosen ones" in the school parade column was worth it.
The column started moving, and you ran excitedly alongside Ninka from your class.
That's probably why one of the teachers came up with the idea to put two kids holding flags in their hands (one red and one white-red) at the front of the school's parade column.
You were marching at the head of the school's column, proud and pale with emotion.
But no one at home got excited about it.
You showed your father a book about Joseph Stalin, which lay in the bookstore window, which you really wanted to have. He probably didn't understand it because you never get it.

Things were much better at school.
Lenka founded a secret cell called K4, which included her, you, Jośka, and Rafał.
You knew Rafał from Krasiński School, and you spent half of the third grade fighting with each other to see who was strongest.
The first task Lenka gave the cell was to decipher the enemy of the people.
It's supposed to be one schoolgirl from your class, Mira.
The reason for the suspicion was that Mira's parents came after the war ended from France...
Saszka also wanted to be a member of the cell. Remember how he shouted: "K5, not K4!"

Do you remember roaming around the ruins of the Castle, and smoking cigarettes in the Tower that was the preferred battlefield for the fifth and sixth grades?
The class that had finished their lessons earlier occupied the Tower, and the others tried to take it over. It usually ended with a regular stone-casting battle.
Do you remember how one of the "sixth graders" forgot at the Tower entrance the trumpet, which he received that day because he was accepted into the school orchestra? After an hour of bombardment with stones, it was changed into an awkward piece of scrap.

You visited Saszka quite often in their apartment in Piastów.
He had some old coins that you used to play Peace Bike Race.
Often, one of the coins was Wilczewski (Poland), and the other represented the Dane Pedersen.
The coin races were at the window sill, and each coin throw was loudly and passionately discussed.
Your friendship with Saszka might seem strange at this time. He was the son of the communistic party provincial committee lecturer, and you were the son of an owner of a private shop, who, per definition, was an enemy of the system. But it appears that common Jewish descent counted more than the other things. And it was Saszka, not you, who was called a bloody Jew by the father of Ewka, your classmate.

Do you remember the last "game" invented by Saszka?
Yes. Throwing stones at the passing by cars.
It could have ended tragically, but it still ended no good.
That day, you were walking home from school with Saszka and Romek.
For practice only, you threw some stones after a black car, which unexpectedly stopped. Saszka immediately ran away, and you ran after him. On the next corner, you stopped to catch your breath and continued to walk as if nothing happened. You started talking again and didn't notice the black limo that pulled up and stopped next to you. When you saw two guys blocking the sidewalk, it was too late.
You happened to hit the First Secretary of the Provincial Committee of the Polish United Workers' Party's limousine!
Quite unlucky for your privateer dad.
Just imagine! The son of an enemy of the working class raises his hand against their party representative!
Saszka's father, a party lecturer, had a chance to apologize to his party comrade for his son's antics.
Romek's father, the editor of Głos Szczeciński newspaper, which was an unofficial party organ, could also self-criticize himself for his negligence in his son's upbringing.
But what could be your father's explanation?
As usual, you had more luck than reason. A few days later, the First Secretary was unexpectedly removed, and the case somehow died.

The rest of the memories about Saszka disappeared into the fog of oblivion.
Were you hanging out together in the school auditorium, listening to the 8-hour broadcast of Joseph Stalin's funeral? Did you stand next to each other for 5 hours in the gym during Bolesław Bierut's funeral? You do not remember.

You were recently in Szczecin and went to Małopolska Street.
You even sent Lenka a photo of the school.
She's all zippity doo-dah: "Did you come into the school?", "Did you talk to the teachers?"
No. You didn't come in. No. You didn't talk. It was just the same building. The school was rebranded into Primary and Secondary School No. 5 then later moved to a different location.

Its spirit, like Saszka's spirit and himself, no longer exists.
Only people like you wander around in a tangle of memories.
But as long as you remember, it's good.
Let the living not lose hope...

November 2014