I was so happy when Stasia and my father met and they became a couple.  It meant he  stopped calling me at 5:30 every morning to chat.  In some ways, Stasia could never believe that I cherished her as a stepmother; as a pediatrician, she was too steeped in fairy tales and Freud.   But I was grateful.  Stasia taught me about survival; she also taught me a few silly things that remain; e.g., how to fold towels, which means whenever I do my laundry, I think of her.  Coming from Poland, she nevertheless taught me how to make cranberry sauce by adding fresh and dried fruits to complicate the taste.  She and Sam made pickles and jam together--I learned these skills too. 

Among the most memorable lesson:  we met in Maine one summer and took a long hike together through the woods.  It was hot and at some point we came across a beautiful, pristine pond.  She and my father and I stripped naked and dove in.  I had never seen my father without clothes and, although I thought of myself as a liberated 1960s woman, I was shocked.  But Stasia was right; the water was delicious. After our swim, we sat on a granite boulder and ate the lunch she had packed--again, ingenuity.  Stasia has mixed salt and pepper in a small plastic bag so that we could dip our hard-boiled eggs into it, turning these mundane foods into something special.  I still use this trick, too.  When we had finished our picnic and got onto the road, I noticed a sign prohibiting swimming.  This was the local reservoir.  I was dismayed about trespassing; but Stasia dismissed my worries.  This I took to be a legacy from Poland--rules must be ignored whenever possible. 

All that was long ago.  Stasia and my father divorced.  But we kept in touch sporadically.  Their wedding picture is dear to me for many reasons--their youth, now both gone within a year of each other; my friends Linda and Richard peering from behind; an my late husband David, lost to Covid in May 2020 straining to see the ceremony.

I miss her.  I miss them all.

I first met Stacia around 1974-1994 (I forget the exact dates). I was the pediatric neurologist at Franciscan Children’s Hospital and did consults at Brighton Marine Hospital across the street, where she had a clinic. Stacia practiced pediatrics there and so we met professionally when I consulted on one or more of her patients. I remember her office, warm and comforting with children’s drawings decorating the walls. At some point thereafter it turned out that she was a close friend of Anita Leyfell’s who lived in Cambridge. Anita’s husband, Aleksander Leyfell was a close cousin (once removed) to me and through them I re-met Stacia. After Aleksander’s death I became even closer to Anita,  and as a result my wife and I became friends with Stacia . Stacia was a special person in so many ways and this was true in every aspect of her life that I was privileged to observe and be a part of. My wife and I visited her in the nursing home shortly before she passed on.  My life was certainly enriched by my  contact with her. And she was so special in all the ways I have noted above.

Edward Hart   

Dear Stasia’s friends and family,

I’m Katarzyna Sobczyk-Jancelewicz and I am writing to you from Poland

First of all, I would like to express my sincere regret of loss of Stasia with whom my family was very close. In short, I’d like to let you know who Stasia was for my family from Torun: my mother - Anna Sobczyk my sister - Agata Sobczyk, and above all, my grandmother Maria Mroczkowska - “Marysia”, as Stasia called her.

Stasia has entered our house in the late 50’s after her studies of medicine in Lublin - she was offered a job in a local pediatric hospital. Somebody asked my grandma to host a young doctor to which she agreed - having a spare room after my mum had left for her studies in Gdańsk.

I was a child but I remember well her presence in our life. She became a real member of our family - she participated in all the important moments of our life and spent all the holidays with us. She was very appreciated as a pediatrician in Toruń’s medical society and became close to my grandparents’ and parents’ friends - doctors and - as my father - artists.

Meanwhile - as I learned much later - she still kept looking for her biological family - especially her brother. For all these years we didn’t know her tragic personal story which, somehow, she didn’t want to share.

Finally, one day, the letter she had been awaiting for so long has arrived from the USA. The close family of her mother found her via Red Cross and invited to Miami Beach. So Stasia left us. It was in 1967- just before March 68 which was a horrible anti-Semitic time in Poland.

Around then -as my parents told me - Mrs Maria Bortnowska from Warsaw visited us . She told us the whole story of Stasia - all the way from when she took her out of the ghetto in Warsaw . Afterwards “Stasia” was given a birth certificate of some Stasia Janowska . Then Mrs Bortnowska placed her in an orphanage in Turkowice - as she did several times with other Jewish children. An incredible brave woman who payed for her activity by being imprisoned in the Ravensbruck camp. . It was a deeply touching, important part of our common Polish-Jewish history. In any case - back in 67 - Stasia decided not to return to Poland. We understood her decision that has closed the Polish chapter of Stasia’s life. During the years that followed we still stayed in touch. My grandma visited her twice, Stasia hosted my sister Agata and me in Boston. In the following years - mostly during the difficult period of the Polish “state of war” in 81 she sent us absolutely fantastic packages with gifts : chocolate , coffee and exotic nuts, unknown here back in the day. I will always remember her generosity. In the 90’s, she and her husband Sam visited Poland . I lived in Gdańsk and we visited the priest Bajko who worked in the orphanage in Turkowice and spent his late years nearby. He was very old at that time and Stasia met him to thank for what he did for all these children. I don’t need to say how moving this meeting after so many years was. In the last years we called each other regularly ... until almost the end. I owe her much , she was exceptionally generous. And - what is the most important - she loved people and people loved her. I’m sure that thanks to it she - who lost almost the whole family during the war - created her second family consisting of friends. I’ll keep Stasia in my memory .. Sorry to be rather long instead of being short . Sometimes I think Stasia’s life could serve as a scenario for a film - it was so full of unexpected turns , happy and tragic moments. But first of all Stasia was an exceptional person and will stay so in our memory. 

 With warm greetings from Poland - Katarzyna Sobczyk - Jancelewicz  

Stasia with her Polish friends - Mr. & Mrs Mroczkowski and Mr. & Mrs Sobczyk

Stasia and I were first cousins once removed, but we didn't know of each other's existence until 2008. Here is how we finally met. 

My maternal grandmother, who grew up in Poland, was one of fourteen children. She and two sisters were the only ones who remained alive after the Holocaust, due to having immigrated to North America earlier in the century. My grandmother's favourite brother, the only one she ever talked about, was called Wolf. The only information she ever told me about him was stories from when they were children and teenagers together, and that he was rumoured to have died fighting in the Warsaw Ghetto.  In 2008, long after the deaths of my parents and grandparents, I was doing some genealogical research and happened to look Wolf up on the Yad Vashem database. I found someone of the same name, birth year and location, but it was a common name and I wasn't certain it was actually him. 

The Yad Vashem testimonials show the name and address of the person who posted the information, which in this case was S. Janowska, with an address in Massachusetts, dated in the 70s.  Who could this be?  The address was apparently out of date, but the 411 directory listed only one S Janowska anywhere in Massachusetts, so I called the number. Stasia answered, and confirmed that she had posted the information; however, she didn't think my grandmother's brother was the same Wolf Chajmowicz as her father, because he had never mentioned having family in Canada, or any living family at all. We became friendly anyway, and stayed in touch. 

A few months later I received some additional genealogical materials that provided the names of my Great Uncle Wolf's wife and his first two children. These turned out to match the names of Stasia's mother and older siblings. Then I remembered that I had a photo of my grandmother with some of her siblings. When I sent that to Stasia, she made a positive identification. Needless to say, it was a terrifically moving and memorable moment for both of us. This was the first time Stasia had known of the existence of any living relatives on her father's side. (Shortly after that we were found by some more cousins in a similar way--you can read their story on this website as well.) We never did solve the mystery of why Stasia's father never told her about his family.

Stasia and I kept in touch regularly by phone, and I was able to visit her a few times when I went to visit my daughter in Toronto. (I live in Vancouver BC.)  I will miss her, but I am thankful that we were at least able to enjoy more than a decade of relationship. I wish I had met this amazing cousin sooner, and that my grandmother and mother could have known her.

In the summer of 2009, my uncle, Moti Chaimovitch, received a package in the mail from the National Zionist Archives  (NZA) with photocopied documents written by my late grandfather, Jacques Chaimovitch to the International Red Cross looking for information about his parents and siblings who had lived in Lodz, Poland during the Holocaust. Our family had always believed no one had survived the Holocaust as Jacques had looked unsuccessfully for years for family members. The documents from the NZA did not provide us with information about a survivor, rather it provided us with something we had been missing for years... the Polish spelling of the name Chaimovitch was in fact "Chajmowicz." Using this information, I began an online search for information, scouring the online Holocaust Archives in Poland, the USA and Israel. The newfound spelling of the name led me to a Page of Testimony submitted to Yad Vashem in 1992 by an American woman named S. Janowska who submitted the testimony on behalf of her father Wolf Chajmowicz (b.1888). As it turned out, Stasia's father (Wolf) and my great-grandfather (Berek) were brothers. Their parents, Fishel and Estera had a total of 13 children . Having made the connection, that someone alive in 1992 had submitted testimony on Wolf, I searched online in the American Yellow Pages for the person's details. I easily found Stasia in Cambridge, MA and emailed my parents telling them what I had discovered.  Less than 8 weeks later while on a visit to Canada from Israel, my parents and I drove from Toronto to visit Stasia for the first time in Cambridge. This was the first of many (but not enough) visits with Stasia. I returned from Israel to visit her again in 2012 with my young son Daniel and my husband Shmulik, and my parents (Dov and Marilyn Lidor) visited her two more times over the years. We corresponded regularly and shared family photos which she always enjoyed receiving. 

Second Visit with Stasia in Cambridge — with Stasia Janowska, Daniel and Lisa Lidor

First Visit with Stasia in Cambridge — with Stasia Janowska and Lisa Lidor

First Visit with Stasia in Cambridge — with Stasia Janowska, Marilyn and Dov Lidor

Stasia's brother, Franek, b. 1920 or 1921. Last heard from in 1942.

First contact with American family

First contact with American family

Stasia with her parents and brother