Styś Family: Moral Rescuers; Children Rescuers

[Photo: Styś and Goldberg families outside barn where Sam and Esther hid]

In her book Conscience & Courage; Rescuers of Jews During the Holocaust, Eva Fogelman explains that most rescuers did not initiate the rescue. A friend, an acquaintance, a friend of a friend came and asked for help,” Fogelman explains. “This was the main channel to action. A direct, personal request provided an opportunity to act on individual intentions. Those who took responsibility were not hindered by how that help would endanger them and their family. All they thought about was that someone was in trouble. Of course they would help.” (Fogelman 61)

As Fogelman reviewed her 300 interviews, she categorized the rescuers into five (imperfect) categories:

• moral – people who were prompted to rescue Jews by thoughts or feelings of conscience;
• Judeophilic – people who felt a special relationship to individual Jews or who felt a closeness to the Jewish people as a whole;
• network-people fueled by anti-Nazi ideology, joining others who were politically opposed to the Third Reich;
• concerned professionalism – people such as doctors or social workers who held jobs in which healing was natural and logical extension; and
• children who helped rescue Jews at the behest of their families. (Fogelman 159)

I am most interested in the categories of “moral” and “children,” because those are the ones that I believe relate to Sam and Esther’s story the most.

“Moral rescuers were people who,” Fogelman describes, “when asked why they risked their lives to save Jews, often answered, ‘How else should one react when a human life is endangered?’ Their concepts of right and wrong was so much a part of who they were and are, that it was as if I had asked them why they breathed.” (Fogelman 162) They realized that unless they acted, this person or people would die.

Moral rescuers, Fogelman continues, “typically launched their rescuing activity only after being asked to help or after an encounter with suffering and death that awakened their consciences.” Those moral rescuers that were also religious had a deep sense of what was right and wrong.   “Religious values, including tolerance for people who were different,” Fogelman explains, “were unshakable and permanent in these rescuers.” (163)

I believe Helena Styś and the other adults in the family were moral rescuers. They were/are religious Catholics and they deeply understood right from wrong and believed that all humans are God’s children. Helena’s conscience was on alert because she had heard the horrors of what happened to the Jews of Stoczek. So, when Esther knocked on Helena’s door and received a direct asked for help, she realized that their lives were in danger and she could not refuse.

But she did not act alone. She got her sister-in-law, Wladyslawa, to be an accomplice to the illegal, clandestine activity. Both of them enlisted the help of their spouses and their children. The children were deeply involved. Eugeniusz described how he was the one, because he was so young, to take the pail of food to the pit in the forest and leave it for the hidden Jews. He would not arouse suspicion. Both Eugeniusz and Jan would go to the pit or the barn to “see how they were doing.” Janina, a teenager, became fast friends with Esther and developed a bond that lasted her whole life. When Wladyslawa was worried that German soldiers who were passing by would come and snoop around their property, she placed headbands on her young children with the words “TYPHUS” on them and sent the kids out to the yard to play. When the Germans would see these headbands, they would run the other direction. Remarkably, the children never told their friends about the hidden Jews – it was a deep family secret.   They thought we were crazy when we asked why they never told their friends in school about the hidden Jews.

Janina

Jan

Eugeniusz

[Phtos: Lefto to Right: Janina; Jan; Eugeniusz]

Fogelman describes child rescuers as acting as a result of their parents’ actions. They did it because their parents told them to. But Fogelman’s interviews of child rescuers makes clear that these rescue actions “took over every aspect of family life. All other concerns were pushed aside. . . . No matter what troubles or problems a child might have, they appeared insignificant compared with those that faced Jews. Guilt, shame, and anger vied with the child’s feelings of love and pride. They empathized with the plight of the Jews while at the same time they resented them. They were angry at their parents for undertaking a humanitarian role in which they were forced to take part, while admiring them for their altruism.” (Fogelman 225)

I know, after speaking to Jan, Janina and Eugenuisz, that their actions of rescue are a deep and lasting part of their psyche. They told the stories to their children and their grandchildren. When I came with my family to visit in 2016, they gathered the extended family together to meet us. As our family sang versus of Psalm 30 to them as a way to say thank you, they all cried tears of pain and sorrow for what Sam and Esther lived through and for what their families lived through. The pain was real and raw, even so many years later.

Fogelman ends her book with a powerful statement about the legacy of rescuers and why it’s important to commemorate and remember them:

“Helping behavior is learned, and the gardens, statues, and the films are ways to keep rescuer’s stories vibrant and relevant for today. They are stories that show youngsters how, in the not so distant past, people came to other people’s aid. These are lessons children appreciate. These are adults who did not lecture or talk about helping. They acted. They said yes and opened their hearts. Hannah Senesh, a Hungarian-born poet, emissary from Palestine who was tortured to death by the Nazis for attempting to free other Jews by parachuting behind enemy lines, described best the essential importance of rescuers. It is a fitting final memorial to them. While these words appear in Senesh’s diary, they could have been written about the Righteous Among the Nations of the World:

‘There are stars whose radiance is visible on earth though they have long been extinct. There are people whose brilliance continues to light the world though they are no longer among the living. These lights are particularly bright when the night is dark. They light the way for Mankind.’” (312)

The lessons from Fogelman’s book speak to us today – as we ask ourselves, what can we do to help those in need? What will it take for us to “see” the evil in our society? Once we are awakened, what shall we do? When we are asked to help, can we say, no?

 

Interview with Lou Diamond on Thrive Loud and Authors that Thrive – check it out

Here is a link to Thrive Loud podcast in which Lou Diamond conducts a wonderful interview with me.  Thanks Lou.

476: Karen Treiger – “My Soul is Filled with Joy”

Stay tuned – tomorrow I’ll post the third in the series on Holocaust rescuers.

Karen

 

 

“It’s Alright as Long as Its Just the Jews” – Removing the Blinders

In Germany and other parts of Europe artificial social constructs, antisemitism, unrelenting propaganda, and fear led to the horrific result of the murder of six million Jews. Without drawing an equivalence, there are lessons we can learn as we mourn the murder of George Floyd and other African Americans and watch and/or participate in the protests against racial inequity and police brutality. These events call us to question the social constructs and propaganda that permeate our society. The lessons that Eva Fogelman teaches about when and how we fight against these messages and how we move from ignoring and not seeing, to seeing and acting, are immensely relevant today.

Fogelman explains that through an “elitist construction of social hierarchy” the Germans were able to stifle the natural empathy that might ordinarily be present. “Compassion for others,” she argues, “rests on the recognition that the one asking for help differs little from the one offering it. By making empathy with Jews difficult, Nazi propaganda became an integral part of the Final Solution. ‘It is all right as long it is only the Jews,’ the populace was encouraged to believe. ‘They don’t respond as we do.’” (Fogelman 46)

Fogelman also describes how people did not see the cruelty that was before their eyes. It was as if they had blinders on and could not see to the right or the left. She cites the work of the psychologist Daniel Goleman. In Viral Lies, Simple Truths Goleman describes “psychic obtuseness,” as a response to the danger of living under Nazi occupation. It was a form of “[s]elf-preservation [that] did not allow the reality of the Jews’ fate to become conscious; it would have been too painful, too dangerous, too terrifying.” [Id.] Bystanders focused all their energy on survival and protection of their family. Mistreatment and murder of Jews, who were not considered equals, Fogelman states, “became background noise.” (Fogelman 47)

So how did some “see” what was going on and even more importantly, how did their awareness lead to action.

To reiterate the five-stage process enumerated by Bob Latane and John Darley:

• Noticing that something is amiss;
• Interpreting the situation as one in which people need help;
• Assuming responsibility to offer that help;
• Choosing a form of help;
• Implementing that help.

It’s the first two stages in which the bystander removes the blinders. They may have a “transformative encounter.” This encounter is not just a moment of realization that Jews are being mistreated or even murdered. It is a moment in which the person is changed – they “see” what is going on and realize that someone really needs help. She sites the case of Oskar Schindler who, while horseback riding, watched as a long line of Jews being marched away. He saw a Nazis who discovered a woman hiding with her baby. The Nazi shot the woman in in the neck and took the whimpering child and bashed his head on the ground. “’Beyond this day,’ Schindler claimed, ‘no thinking person could fail to see what would happen. I was now resolved to do everything in my power to defeat the system.’” (Fogelman 54)

There were others who “saw” the horrors, even if they did not have a transformative experience. They saw because they may have suffered at the hands of the Nazis.   Someone in their family may have been murdered, arrested, or beaten. Such personal suffering led them to see the suffering of others.

After these initial two stages, the bystander can assume responsibility, choose a form of help and act on the desire to help. This is not to make it sound easy. It was not. Fogelman cites Milgram’s obedience studies to show how hard it is to disobey authority. To become a rescuer, you were engaging in an illegal act and such behavior “ruined any chance of preserving a normal life.” (Fogelman 50)   Rescuers asked, “Can I live with myself if I say no?”

Fogelman explains that most rescuers did not initiate the rescue. “A direct, personal request,” Fogelman describes, “provided an opportunity to act on individual intentions. Those who took responsibility were not hindered by how that help would endanger them and their family. All they thought about was that someone was in trouble. Of course they would help.” (61)

Once a rescuer decided he or she must help, there was no longer a choice. It was just what to do and how to implement (stages 4 and 5).

I see all these stages in the case of Styś family’s rescue of Esther, Moishe, and Chaim in September of 1942. The Styś family knew something was amiss – their farm was four kilometers from town, and they saw and heard what happened. Jan, then eleven years old, told his family what he saw out the window of his school. He saw the Nazis march the Jews to the cemetery and shoot them into a pit. As he retold this story to us, seventy-three years later, tears ran down his face. It was a transformative experience for this eleven- year-old boy and perhaps for his entire family.

[Photo:  Shlomo walking the path to Helena Styś‘s home]

When Esther, Chaim and Moishe showed up at Helena’s door asking for help – for food and to hide – this was a direct ask for assistance. Helena knew of the dangers, but she may have asked herself – “can I live with myself if I say no?”   These people, who she knew from town, were in trouble. Of course she would help. The implementation involved two entire families – providing places to hide in their barns, food, opportunity to repair clothing, as well as friendship and psychological support. Janina, Helena’s daughter, described to us how she and Esther became friends. They would discuss many topics, from religion to mushroom soup.

Some in our country are taking off the blinders and looking at the social constructs. Perhaps some are having transformative experiences and perhaps others who have suffered see this as a personal call to action. We are living through challenging times and it can be hard to know what actions to take in the midst of a pandemic. But, I believe we have an opportunity to look at ourselves and our society in a new way and I believe that Fogelman’s study of rescuers during the Holocaust can help us articulate how we might move from bystander to activist.

Fogelman continues to deepen our understanding of the psychology of rescue by describing categories of rescuers. I found it fascinating to try placing the Styś family members in one of her categories.   Stay tuned.

Why Do Some Help? Lessons from Eva Fogelman

Esther Goldberg survived the round-up of Jews in September 1942 by hiding in an attic for three days. After her family, friends and neighbors were shot into pits at the Stoczek Jewish cemetery or taken to the nearby Death Camp – Treblinka – the town fell silent. Esther emerged, starving and scared. She knocked on her Polish neighbor’s doors, asking for help – some food and to hide. But she was turned away, time and again. She went a few kilometers out of town and knocked on Helena Styś’s door and asked for help. Helena did not turn away, afraid or disgusted. She saw a human being in need of help. She said, “yes, I will help you.”

I have often asked myself, what would I do if someone in danger came to my door and asked for help – especially when such behavior would place me and my children in danger.   Why did Helena and the other Styś family members help? German propaganda and years of antisemitism in Poland did not make Jews the most appealing victims. But yet, the Styś families allowed Esther, Moishe and Chaim, and later, Sam, to hide in and around their property, brought them food, and even vodka, when they could. The whole family was involved, even the young children, Eugenuisz and Jan. When we had the honor to meet them, we asked them, “how was it you never told anyone the secret of the Jews hiding here?” They looked at us like we were crazy and said – “It was our family secret. We would never tell. It was dangerous.”

Eugeniusz

Jan

[Photos:  Left – Eugenuisz Styś; Right – Jan Styś]

After reading articles and books on the subject of rescuers, I have been left with the idea that rescuers simply had a strong moral compass that did not go haywire during the war. But I wanted more. I wanted to understand why – what was it about these people that allowed them to stand up to the evil, when most did not. What would it take for me to be one of those people?

In a stroke of luck, a cousin of mine recently gave me Eva Fogelman’s book Conscience & Courage: Rescuers of Jews During the Holocaust. This 1994 book provides a much deeper understanding of rescuers – who they were and why they did what they did. In a series of blog posts, I will share some of what I have learned. I hope you find it as fascinating as I do.

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Anne Frank and her family hid in the secret attic that we all read about it in her famous diary. The home where she hid is now a museum in Amsterdam. The rescuer, Miep Gies (Miep van Santen in the diary), was interviewed by Fogelman. She echoed what many rescuers say about their actions during the war: “I am not a hero.”

“I stand at the end of the long, long line of good Dutch people who did what I did or more-much more-during those dark and terrible times years ago,” Miep continued, “I have never wanted special attention. I was only willing to do what was asked of me and what seemed necessary at the time.’” (Fogelman 6).

When a Danish fisherman, who ferried Jews to safety, was asked why he did it. He responded: “Someone came who needed help, we did not think about the risk.” (Fogelman 6-7)

Rescuers helped Jews even though they knew that it put themselves and their families in danger. The Germans passed a law on October 15, 1941 that called for the death penalty for Jews who left a ghetto without permission and for any non-Jew “who knowingly provide hiding places for Jews.” (Fogelman 30). The law went one step further – it required any non-Jew, who knew of someone breaking this law, to report it to the authorities or suffer the death penalty.   Public executions of non-Jews, hanging alongside the Jews they helped, sent a strong message. The danger was made clear to all Poles, even those in the countryside. “Every Polish farmer was aware,” Fogelman writes, “that if he helped a Jew he risked his life as well as the lives of his wife and children.” (Id.)

Jan Styś told us about some neighbors who were hiding Jews in their attic. A Pole informed on them and the Germans killed the Jews and all the family members that were in the home. Only two family members survived, because they were not home at the time. When Jan told us this story, some 73 years after the event, his body was shaking as if the fear was ever present.

One of the insights that Fogelman provides is a description of Bob Latane and John Darley’s work on bystander intervention. Latane and Darley, social psychologists, describe a five-stage process “by which observers turn into active participants.”

• Noticing that something is amiss;
• Interpreting the situation as one in which people need help;
• Assuming responsibility to offer that help;
• Choosing a form of help;
• Implementing that help.

In my next few blog post, I will elaborate on these stages and the lessons they can teach us today.

“Poster Child” for UW Writing Certificate Program – just released

 

Here is where it will be found on the UW website for the writing certificate program:

https://www.pce.uw.edu/certificates/writing

Thank you to UW for inviting me to be interviewed and thanks to Louie and Ty for working on the posted article and the video.