Stephen Shooster because his last name was the same as the one taken by Hitler, “Fuhrer.” He was a teacher, but not at my school. The family was well-known. They had a big house and a hotel in the downtown market square. All the time I spent in the backwoods as a child paid off dur- ing the occupation. I carried no papers, wore no armband, and looked and spoke perfect German. It wasn’t getting caught that I worried about, it was being discovered as a Jew.
Jack Boots
I would take my sack with me and fill it with whatever I could. At the beginning of the occupation, I would visit my relatives outside of the ghetto and family friends who lived outside of town. One of those cousins was Chaim Schagrin who lived in Stroze and had a small farm. Once they were also brought into the ghetto, this valuable source of nutrition dried up, so the only other people I could rely upon were the non-Jews still living in the countryside. I am glad that my father did so many good deeds before the war, making it possible to ask these people to help. Everything was underground and surreptitious. I was always alert and on the edge. Somehow, I always found something to bring home. The situation was serious. As my father continued to do forced labor, I planned what might be possible to bring back that night and I used our horse, wagon, and sled to get it. Unexpectedly, our home was searched by the police. Armed men tossed things around looking for contraband. We collectively cringed when they showed us what they found, a bar of soap. Kubala held it tightly while yelling with his veins popping out of his head. “This is forbidden. You know the law. Jews are filthy swine not allowed to own soap.” What could we say? I’m sure he saw my mom holding a baby. Even if we didn’t wash, a baby is endless work, and soap is the most basic of needs to do it. He continued to berate us, “Where did you get this?” Silence followed his barrage. He put the soap in each of our faces to see if by moving closer he could intimidate us into figuring out whom to punish. The next thing he did was alarming. Our neighbor and my dad’s best friend were arrested and charged with helping the Jews, a crime punishable by death. Because of a single bar of soap. Tadeusz Skrabski was forcefully taken away from his home. We all stood aghast. My baby brother was crying, and everyone was frantic. We were deeply concerned,
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