Wartime Rescue of Jews by the Polish Catholic Clergy

We shook his hand, after which our hostess invited us to share some food she had prepared for us. Soon we were immersed in lively conversation.

“I would like to suggest something,” Father Dunajecki said after we had been chatting a while. “You, Tadeusz, you speak Polish like a Pole. But Leibush’s Polish is a dead giveaway. I would suggest that Leibush not use the certificate that I have made available to him. You don’t have to decide now, but think about it.”

We told him we would reconsider. As it turned out, we realized that the Monsignor was correct; we never used that certificate.

With Leibush in the other room talking to Kotulova, the Monsignor and I began to talk. The priest grew pensive.

“You know, Tadeusz” he said, “I have been a priest here in Kolbuszowa for nearly twenty years, and I have never gotten to know a single Jew.²⁹⁸ I have never had any dealings with any Jewish organizations, and I have never had the slightest idea what was going on in the Jewish community. I have never even met your rabbi. Now, in view of what’s happened to the Jews here, I deeply regret not having made the effort to know your people better. What’s most upsetting to me is the thought that I could have saved scores of Jewish children by placing them among my parishioners; it would have been an easy thing to do. But no one said anything to me, and I myself have been remiss for neglecting what was going on under my very nose. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

I could tell he was really sincere. I didn’t know how to respond. He was blaming himself, but who really was to blame? As we were about to leave, he shook our hands and wished us luck. Then he made the sign of the cross over us and bade us goodbye.
Rev. Dunajecki of Kolubszowa is mentioned in another rescue story, as is the bishop of Tarnów. In April 1942, seven-year-old Rachela Gross (born in 1934) was left near the convent of the Sisters of St. Joseph in Trzęsówka near Kolbuszowa, by a farmer who was afraid to keep the child any longer. The nuns used to run a shelter for children before the war, but it had been closed by the German authorities. After taking Rachela in, Sister Roberta Sutkowska, the superior, went to consult with Rev. Dunajecki, who directed her to the bishop of Tarnów, whom she identifies as Franciszek Lisowski of Tarnów. In actual fact, Bishop Lisowski had died in June 1939, and the apostolic administrator of the diocese of Tarnów was Bishop Edward Komar, the diocese’s auxiliary bishop, who died in September 1943. The bishop encouraged the rescue effort and provided advice. Rachela remained with the nuns after the war, refusing repeatedly to go with Jewish Commission representatives, despite the urging of the nuns. The nuns educated her and she became a physician; she married and retained the Catholic faith.²⁹⁹ (Kurek, Your Life Is Worth Mine, pp.185–88.)
I was taken to Trzesowka [Trzęsówka]. The convent was visible from a distance, for it was the only two-storied building in the village. The farmer left me in the field, and said:

“Go there; they will take you in.”

It was Palm Sunday. Like an automaton I went to the convent. Sister Roberta [Sutkowska] was not there at the time. Sister Adolfina was the nun in charge. She was so fat and—well, strict—but she greeted me warmly and had me say a prayer. Of course, I knew how to pray. I rattled off a prayer, and then I heard:

“You can stay here.”

This was an intelligent woman. She was aware of the truth, and the following day baptized me with water. People began to take an interest in who I was and how I came to be in the convent. But nobody ever suspected that I was Jewish. (After all, I had blonde hair and blue eyes). They thought I was the child of some acquaintance, or an orphan—and it was left at that.

In the convent I was treated like a normal village child. I worked at everything and even enjoyed it. After all I had gone through, my stay in the convent was stabilizing. I knew that I would remain there, that it was good for me there, that I was safe. I even knew that should the Germans come, nothing would happen to me because the nuns would be able to take care of everything.