A PILGRIMAGE TO POLAND by Jeanne M. Carley It wasn't really intended to be a genealogical research trip. But, since Bill and I were visiting our new granddaughter, born on Easter, and our daughter Cathlyn, her husband Milos and his 10-year-old daughter Ivona in Switzerland, why not make an excursion to Poland too? (The heritage of Odile Jeanne, named after my French-Canadian grandmother and sister, includes Irish-English, French- German (maternal) and Serbo-Croatian (paternal). Her parents speak five languages and her sister two.) Tiny Odile is simply adorable, but as grandparents, we now had the option of having fun and leaving the cares and work behind. So, after spending two enjoyable but occasionally noisy weeks giving support to the little family, we celebrated Cathlyn's birthday at an old Swiss inn and promised to be back in two weeks on May 10 for a joint Mother's Day and Bill's birthday. And on May 17, our last Sunday in Basel, we would celebrate the baptism of both Ivona (my godchild) and Odile at Basel's French Catholic Church followed by a dinner for 20 at a German castle nearby. The next day, we would take the train back to Paris, spend an evening in the City, and a flight home the following day. My maternal grandmother, Anna Kampa, of German parentage, was born in 1866 in a village near Opole, Silesia, the western region of Poland bordering the Sudeten mountains and near the Oder River. A few years after her arrival in 1880 at age 16 in central Minnesota with her brother and sisters (her parents came later), she married John Maier from West Berlin (Spandau), who had immigrated earlier. She spoke Polish, German, and English. In 1945, she died when I was eight years old, but I remember her well as she was the only grandparent I knew, the others having died before my birth. For several years, I've been searching for her origin in Silesia, exhausting all resources with no luck. When WCGS member Herb Mahler gave a workshop on Silesia two years ago, I learned a lot about a country first governed by the Piast Dynasty which became an industrial region of rich resources eventually seized by the Austrian Empire, then by the Prussians. Herb also warned us that the Polish roads were narrow, two-lane and bumpy. Then last summer while in Minneapolis for a family reunion, we were having lunch with my high school friend, Marlene, and her husband Bob. When I asked where he was from in Minnesota, he answered North Prairie, (a tiny village near Opole, Minn., close to my hometown of Little Falls). "Really," I said, and sounding too much like a genealogist, I told him my grandparents had married there in 1885. He said, "So did mine." I remarked that I suspected that the immigrants there may have come from the Opole area in Poland. He said, "You're absolutely right, Jeanne!" To my amazement, he produced a copy of his recent article published in the newsletter of the Polish National Genealogical Society of Minnesota which tells the story of the group of settlers, the Silesian villages in which they had lived, the local priest who built the first parish and had married our grand-parents. What an unexpected surprise! Bob also had a list of the immigrant names in his article which included the two - Kampa and Brenny - I was researching. He told me there were three Silesian villages inhabited by these German/Polish settlers and all I need do is to check the LDS Family History Center's IGI to locate the exact place. (He does his research regularly at the Minnesota State Library, a beautiful new building in St. Paul, near the state capital, which includes the historical society, genealogy groups, library and museum/gift shop). Naturally, I'll always be grateful to him for his work. And he was pleased that he could provide the right key to my closed door. When I returned home from Minnesota, I went to the Scarsdale Family History Center and quickly found all the Kampas came from two neighboring villages and later lived in Benton County, Minn. So I ordered Catholic Church records - in German - from the Opole, Poland area, which were filmed in the 1970's. I found an Anna, the daughter of Franz (Frank) Kampa, with similar birth data, but the mother's name was different from that written on Anna Kampa Maier's death certificate. (The information was provided by my aunt, the youngest of 12 children and her knowledge may be incorrect as she didn't know her grandmother's name in her later years. "We called her grandma", she remembered). So more research on deaths and marriages is needed as the Agnes Brenny written on her death certificate could of been a stepmother. No death certificates, obituaries or graves for Anna's parents have been found. Our trip to Poland began with a train ride from Basel to Munich where we rented a car for travel through Germany, the Czech Repiblic and Poland. (France & Switzerland won't rent cars to drive in Poland because of the high theft rate. The Germans gave us an orange underpowered Fiat not even the Poles would covet). Many Polish ride bicycles or hitchhike because they can't afford cars. This was our first foray into Eastern Europe. We spend three days in beautiful Baroque Prague, the "Paris of the East" and drove near the lovely Tatra mountains enroute to Poland. Our destinations there were Kracow, a well- preserved medieval city and ancient university center, Jasna Gora (Our Lady of Czestochowa or the Black Madonna), only 92 kilometers from my grandmother's birthplace in Stare Siolkowice and nearby Opole, the seat of a Piast Dynasty. Unfortunately, Opole, which was settled in the 9th century, suffered significant destruction in the last war and was mostly rebuilt in the Communist modern cement block style. When I visited the Opole archives in the city marketplace (Rynek) reconstructed with Baroque and Rococo facades near the City Hall and Franciscan Church (1330) with its Piast Chapel, I learned that French was the only common language I could use. (However, most people there speak German as they do in most of Eastern Europe). Since their records began only after 1875, they referred me to my grandmother's local parish for records. Since I had already seen the filmed LDS records, which was done extensively in Poland, I ws not too concerned, but was quite curious to see the area and take pictures to share with family members. Like central Minnesota, the rural landscape in Lower Silesia around Opole was flat with clusters of trees, tilled land and various long low buildings for livestock and other farm animals. Unlike rural Minnesota, however, a monstrous power complex could be seen from both these ancestral villages about 7 km. away overshadowing this peaceful family scene. And even closer to Opole were several industrial plants including an ugly cement block factory emitting a grey grittiness over the area. Very disappointing! There ancient hamlets were marked by a spirituality not often seen elsewhere, except possibly in northern France. Throughout the region, we saw outdoor shrines with statues of saints and calvaries at many homes and alongside the roads. When we reached the village of Chroscice, I entered the pretty church completely ringed by pansies and many blossoming trees. The large graveyard nearby was a scene of beauty and order, all its graves planted with fresh or fake flowers and each tomb separated by neatly raked sand and evergreens. It was obvious that someone here cared, quite a contrast to the grim unpainted and dilapidated buildings throughout Poland. Though I didn't look at the entire cemetery, I found several Kampa families who were born in the late 19th century and died in this century, contemporaries of my mother. At the parish house of St. Michael the Archangel in Stare (old) Siolkowice, only the barking dog greeted us, but the modern church was open for visitors. Outside, I noted a memorial to those soldiers killed in the Great War. In every year from 1914 to 1917, there was a Kampa. No cemetery was to be found, but there were a few tombstones on one side. A large tomb surmounted by a lifesize angel caught my attention! It was inscribed "Anna Kampa, born in 1910." No doubt, my grandmother had left relatives here, which I knew as I recalled my eldest aunt and grandmither writing letters "back home." Too bad no one saved the letters received. I wondered how they fared during all those tragic years of war, Communist rule and deprivation? The current phone book lists no more Kampas in the two villages, but a few remain in the region. One of the traditions that Anna Kampa brought from the Old World to America was the recipe for the delicious poppyseed coffeecake with a sugar-crunchy streusel toping (mohnstreizel kuchen) that she made every Christmas and for special occasions. Everyone who married into the family quickly became a devotee of this irresistible sweet treat, which has been passed down for at least four generations. It's often served at family reunions throughout the country. In her 80's, my mother continued to bake this specialty in California for our summer visits. And I watched and carefully recorded the ingredients and her method despite her unmeasured approach so that my daughters could learn how to produce this magical of breads for their future families. Although it takes a day to prepare, from the grinding of the poppyseeds through two and three risings, this fabulous butter and cream-rich yeast cake bread is always expected and enjoyed on our holidays. Would I be able to find it in Silesia? While walking around Opole, we met a salesman in a shop who spoke English and chatted with him about these villages. (He had lived in London, New York and Hartford). He confirmed that, indeed, German families had lived there, but most had eventually emigrated to America by the 20th century and were replaced by Polish refugees from the Russian- occupied areas. On a hunch, (Bill thought I was a bit crazy) I inquired if he knew about poppyseed kaffe kuchen, telling him about our family tradition. He smiled knowingly. Enthusiastically, he directed us to the local bakery only two blocks away where we could purchase some. It was a plain little store with nothing much left except for some eclairs and buns. But on one side, there it was - poyyseed coffeecake just like my Grandmother's: a rich cake- like bread filled with a sweet moist bluish-black poppyseed layer and topped with the crumbly cinnamon streusel. We bought a huge piece and savored morsels of our treasure showly during the next three days. I knew now I had finally found grandmother's home and it was worth all the bumpy roads in Poland to get there! Data Entry Volunteer: Ron Zurek