impressed at how tidy the Abramczyks’ home was and how well the children behaved. Much of that good conduct was down to Rachel, as her timid mother was no disciplinarian. As soon as she was old enough to hold a baby, Rachel effectively became the secondary maternal figure, helping with the cooking and chores as well as taking care of her younger siblings.
She prepared lunch when they came in from school and then she sent them out to play. The family had outside help once in a while but the eldest daughters did most of the work. Sala, the next in line and three years younger than Rachel, recalled, ‘One of us was always holding one of the little ones or doing the washing the old-fashioned way, with washboards.’ Their younger sisters Ester and Bala were recruited too, as soon as they were old enough. Their brothers Bernard, known as ‘Berek’, and her younger brother Moniek did what they could but the smallest children, Dorcka – known as ‘Dora’ – and her twin brother Heniek, born in 1931, plus their baby sister Anička – known as ‘Maniusia’ – born in 1933, were too little.
Rachel felt the pressure of her responsibilities. ‘We were all very good kids and we didn’t fight like other children,’ she said, although she was the one her mother asked to make sure her younger siblings behaved themselves and did their chores. It was a disciplinary role she maintained throughout her life. Perhaps because of all her duties, Rachel was a skinny girl and sometimes spoken of as ‘the weakling’ of the family. Sala, vivacious and pretty, who sang and danced in local theatrical groups, said, ‘Rachel always needed more feeding up than the rest of us.’
Largely financed by Fajga’s well-connected parents, the family ate well, enjoying pierogi dumplings and meat dishes such as duck with apples or chicken with plums. Mealtimes were always a highlight and the mouth-watering memories of the food on their table would sustain Rachel and her family through the worst times of the war.
The four eldest sisters were popular amongst their peers.Educated, well dressed and bilingual, they had a wide circle of friends of all creeds. Sala was considered such a beauty that she had her portrait painted by the art teacher at their school. ‘It was a great honour but then I was always her favourite,’ she recalled.
Although the family business was thriving and their home a modern and happy one, the Abramczyk way of life was constantly felt to be under threat as Jews in Poland experienced widespread prejudice, with often only their own community court or local rabbis to complain to. This concerned many and, amongst the younger generation especially, there was talk of leaving to start a new life somewhere without the constant threat of harassment. Zionism, founded in the nineteenth century, had enjoyed a surge in popularity across Eastern Europe during the 1930s. Its idealistic notions of setting up a way of life free from discrimination in the ‘Land of Israel’ – considered to be the Jewish homeland – held increasing appeal to those who felt largely powerless.
The older and more observant Jews dreamed of going to Palestine to die somewhere ‘closer to God’ – the ultimate status symbol. Some, like Rachel’s father, preferred Azerbaijan, where Jews had been promised sanctuary. Their younger counterparts had little use for religion and just wanted to settle somewhere they could raise children safely, in a land where everyone could be equal.
Ever since she was sixteen years old, Rachel had been a member of the Jewish National Fund to raise money for land in Palestine. She too fantasised about moving there one day and living a life doing good works. Having spent her teenage years as little more than a nanny, Rachel privately made the decision to marry a wealthy man as soon as she could. By the time she left high school, she had done just that. His name was Moshe Fried man, also known as Morris or ‘Monik’, a
John McEnroe;James Kaplan
William K. Klingaman, Nicholas P. Klingaman