This is the only picture of grandfather Franz Wawrzyniak and grandmother Wawrzyniak I've ever seen. Can you make out the back of the circus tent behind them?
The little I know about my Polish grandparents came from
Mutti. Vati almost never talked about them, and seldom talked about his
brothers and sister.
I know that my grandfather’s name was Franz, since my
brother was named after him. Franz Wawrzyniak, or Francesco (which was his
artist name) owned Circus Francesco, one of the largest circuses in Poland
before the war. The family traveled along the Polish-Russian border a lot, and
during one of their tours in Russia my father was born. So technically Vati was
a Russian, not a Pole.
I learned about that when I got ready to get married to an
U.S. soldier. My fiancé, Gary, had a top security clearance. When his superiors
discovered that the father of his bride was born in Russia, they advised him to
just live with me and marry me after he’d left the service.
For both of us this was out of the question, however, so
Gary took a demotion in his clearance and a less sensitive job in the Army, and
we got married. Eventually, they returned him to his highly classified job,
since he was the best they had for it!
Back to my Polish grandparents. I’m not sure if it’s true,
but Mutti told me that Vati had two older brothers who stayed in Russia when
the circus returned to Poland before the war. In any case, the Nazi army
invaded and conquered Poland. Circus Francesco kept traveling in Poland, but within
a very short time the Nazis requisitioned the circus, made a Nazi party member
the owner, and forced the Wawrzyniak family to work as hired artists in their
own circus. The Nazi owner then gave the circus to a small German circus family
as a wedding present, and now the family traveled in Germany. My grandfather
died shortly after he was forced to work in his own circus in Germany. Mutti
told me it was from grief to see his life’s work stolen away.
This happened before Vati and Mutti met. After the war, the
Wawrzyniak family regained their circus, and, before I was born, they returned
to their beloved Poland. Mutti refused to go to another country where a
totalitarian government ruled, so Vati stayed with her in Germany. His mother
must have died around that time, since when I was born she had already passed
away.
My father’s two brothers and one sister stayed in Poland. We
children met Uncle Henrik only once, and never met Aunt Sonja or Uncle Josef.
The only family I knew of lived in our little caravan home.
Next time, I’ll talk more about Mutti’s parents and why we
never met them, either.
No comments:
Post a Comment