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A newspaper came out, the daily 'Kurze Zeitung', in Germany, in Freiburg, with that interview and my photographs. And from that time on a friendship developed. When Mrs. Erb was in Cracow, she always dropped in to see me. She invited me to see her. There was another man from that Kolbe-Werk, called Konradi, who came to Cracow once fine day and called me. He said he had read the interview with me and asked if he could meet me. He asked if I could even meet a German, if I didn't have a mental scar. We arranged to meet in Jama Michalika [a cafe]. I asked how I would recognize him. And he says, 'I have a photograph of you and I'll find you. Please sit in the front room.' He came, a very handsome, elegant man, in fact, and brought heaps of roses, a huge bouquet, about 20 or 30 roses. He came up to me. At once, without hesitating, evidently he recognized me from the photograph. He knelt down, literally with tears in his eyes gave me the roses. And asked if I could give him my hand. If he could greet me. So I say, 'Well, I've never done it before; I'm a Jew and you're a German, but this once...' and I greeted him. I had tears in my eyes too.
That was seven or eight years ago. And after that he always came, every year, like the best of friends. Later he invited me to Germany. He paid for a holiday in Fulda for me and asked if I could bear the German language, if I would be able to listen to the language. But somehow that barrier of hate has broken down in me, as far as he goes. I considered him my friend. He came, every year to Cracow, with his job. Kolbe-Werk is a foundation that helps the sick and the old. All those who were in the camps. He checked up on how the money is used. Whenever he came, he would bring me something, and if he didn't come he would send something. I told him I didn't need it. But he said that he wasn't in a position to make amends for even a thousandth of what I'd been through. He was a little younger than me, but he remembered the war. His father hadn't been in the army either.
That was seven or eight years ago. And after that he always came, every year, like the best of friends. Later he invited me to Germany. He paid for a holiday in Fulda for me and asked if I could bear the German language, if I would be able to listen to the language. But somehow that barrier of hate has broken down in me, as far as he goes. I considered him my friend. He came, every year to Cracow, with his job. Kolbe-Werk is a foundation that helps the sick and the old. All those who were in the camps. He checked up on how the money is used. Whenever he came, he would bring me something, and if he didn't come he would send something. I told him I didn't need it. But he said that he wasn't in a position to make amends for even a thousandth of what I'd been through. He was a little younger than me, but he remembered the war. His father hadn't been in the army either.
Period
Location
Poland
Interview
Teofila Silberring