6/2/1939 Dear Peter, It is a beautiful day here in Piotrków Trybunalski, sunny sky and a warm 24°C! I hope your weather in Germany is great, too! Life here is normal, sometimes. I play with Mama and little Reiza and help with chores and shopping. Still, I am noticing the grown ups whispering and turning the radio up. Sometimes, when he thinks I’m not listening, Papa whispers about a German war. Your friend, Lukasz 10/8/1939 Dear Peter, The Germans came, just as Papa had whispered about. He told me not to think of the wall, but it is too ominous to notice. People right before the wall have been laughing and calling me “Dirty Jew!” and I just don’t get it. What did I do? To comfort me, Mama made peirogi and kiebasa, my favorite meal! Although, I could barely finish my meal. I am afraid this will escalate quickly Your friend, Lukasz 12/20/1939 Dear Peter, Things are much worse now. The wall is higher and soldiers watch us all the time. Mama has to tell Reiza it will be okay, but that doesn’t stop the crying. My school closed, so I am able to assist Mama calming Reiza, after all, she’s only 4. Every day, I wait in line for a small ration of bread. Now what was once normal is now paradise I never see. Last night, Guards stormed my apartment and stole all of us, Mama, Papa, myself, even poor Reiza! I had escaped the crowded train to Flossenbürg, I jumped out the window into a big hay bale. Your (hopeful) friend, Lukasz 4/7/1940 Dear Peter, If my letter reaches you, it means I have escaped Germany. We were so close… So close to freedom. We tried to catch a midnight train to get a boat to America. Guards stormed the carriage when they heard the loud noises of Polish Jews trying to reach freedom. The guards took us right from the train and forced us onto another train leading to the Buchenwald concentration camp, right by your house. It was so dirty there! So dirty, Peter! A wave of fear passed over me as the guards passed my bed. I thought I wouldn’t make it to my 13th birthday, just days away. I met two boys around my age named Rolf and Heinz. I hope they don’t take up my time writing to you! Your friend, Lukasz 4/16/1940 Dear Peter, It’s my 13th birthday, Peter! I never thought I’d be spending such an important day at a place where you are beat up constantly. But I am a man! My birthday used to be a day filled with joy and happiness, although I don't see any joy or happiness here. Rolf and Heinz organized a small celebration, but it was just them and a few other boys saying “Alles Gute zum Geburtstag.” After the “celebration,” I found something strange about the wall. A hole. If I’m lucky, it could be my way out of this prison. Alive. Your pal, Lukasz 4/23/1940 Dear Peter, Rolf, Heinz and I did it! We left Buchenwald, once and for all. We bolted to the nearest train station, avoiding any guards, and quickly climbed to the roof of the caboose. We lay low, our fingers bleeding with pain, although it was less pain than in the concentration camp. When the 500-ton vehicle reached the nearest harbor, we cautiously climbed down. It was not fun. I am currently on a boat to Ellis Island! I feel a mix of nervous, cautious and free at the same time. I am so used to being cramped into a tiny space, since I have been in one for three months-three months! I don’t know what will be on the other side, or if I will make it, but you know me-I always like a good surprise. Your buddy, Lukasz 5/7/1940 Dear Peter, I made it! We made it! I’m FREE! At least, I thought that until the ferry docked. Peter, the moment I stepped off the boat, the ‘freedom’ I felt turned into a checkpoint nightmare. The Great Hall is packed to the brim with people-all shapes and sizes. The man in the white uniform, a ‘doctor,’ didn’t even say “Hello.” He just watched my climb up the stairs to see if I was weak! Then came the eyes. THE EYES! He didn’t just look at my eyes, which would have been a little awkward, but instead, he flipped my eyelids upside down. I had told myself I could survive Buchenwald, the train and my family being killed on the spot, and that they were much worse than an eyelid flip. They asked me where I got my ticket. I had to be careful, or they would send me right back. Then came the blocks. The most stressful wooden blocks I’ve played with. EVER. I had to arrange them to fit together, but how was I supposed to do that if I’d been played around with, tested by a few doctors in white coats? They let me through, and all pressure was taken off of me! Rolf passed the test, but Heinz, poor Heinz. He had Typhus. And we will never forget him. On the other side, I can deliver all three letters to you, and I hope your family can move to America with us! P.S.: I will eat so much pierogi and kielbasa! Your best friend, Lukasz