May 4–8, 2009
On May 4, 2009 it was that time again. Rudi Dorow (born in 1925) had invited everyone on a trip to the old homeland. Thirty-three participants set off from Braunschweig, Berlin and the rest area at the Polish border on their way to Pommerland.
What was special about the composition of the travel group was the age. The oldest participants were born in 1925, the youngest was born in 1984. I, too, belonged to the younger group — I finally wanted to feel the homeland of my mother and my grandparents and ancestors, to see their home towns, to walk on that ground!
After we crossed the border into Poland at Stettin, the atmosphere on the bus changed. The initial joy of reunion and the exchange of news transformed into a tense, eager expectation.
The truly perfect bus driver from the company FUMU in Vechelde drove us through Stargard, Freienwalde, Wangerin, Dramburg, Falkenburg, Tempelburg to our lodging in Bad Polzin, past avenues and forest edges covered with meadowsweet. About 80% of the areas our route led through lay fallow or were untouched by human hands. I was astonished, because I had expected large fields with potato cultivation and grain. We were able to admire the first clumps — nests inhabited by storks.
Around 6 p.m. we arrived safely at Hotel Polanin in Bad Polzin. In addition to nice, clean rooms, a delicious dinner awaited us. A first walk around the town took place before bed called.
On May 5 the time had come. Today we were to go to Groß Krössin. How long I had waited for this day and how eagerly I longed for it. At last to see where my ancestors had lived for over three centuries.
At the group’s request we took a detour via Waldhof, Randen, Damen, Zadtkow, Petersdorf, Muttrin and Döbel. Here we saw the large Friedrich fish factory, which a German lawyer founded and built there years ago and which mainly sells smoked trout fillets worldwide (available in almost all markets with us).
At the roadside we could admire splendid specimens of cranes that had made a stop in the fields, and of course the many, many avenues. I knew them from the repeatedly recurring conversations in the family about the landscape “at home.”
First we stopped in Balfanz to let some women return to their old homeland. They walked back to Groß Krössin on foot in the afternoon.
And then our avenue before Groß Krössin came, and life on the bus began and the search for the old Liebeseiche (Love Oak). My mother had told me that the Liebeseiche had played a mysterious role for her parents. It became palpable that many travelers were at home again, felt transported back to their childhood and youth, and were full of energy and drive.
For me it was moving and touching to drive through the village of the ancestors, the village that I had known for half a century only as ‘home’ from the stories. What would the grandparents say if they could see me now in their HOME? Tears ran down their faces with joy and Grandpa Edmund Hackbarth would be proud and happy that a grandson is interested in his life.
The ride went through the large village (formerly about 1,000 inhabitants) to the station in Villnow. It was also the station for the Groß Krössin residents, then as now. We turned at the station, and in Villnow some participants got off to walk over the former Karlshöh estate and Oberhof to Groß Krössin. Among them was Martin, the youngest participant at 24 years old. His grandmother Ilse, née Hackbarth, spent her first years at Carlshöh in her paradise. Her father, grandfather and great-grandfather lived on that estate. Her grandpa August helped in his youth the owner’s son Schultz with the structural expansion at Carlshöh.
Arriving in the village, the participants scattered in all directions. Some collected bicycles from Marian, a German translator in the village, to explore the village. Others walked through the village, past the church, the cemetery and the old forester’s house to the Persante. There they went to the old bathing spot, and almost everyone had memories from childhood of that place to tell.
A lot of strength, energy and joie de vivre was palpable; much was told — and some stories I already knew from the accounts in my family.
We were warmly welcomed in the village. We met some old men several times during the day. What did they expect of us? The Polish language was a barrier — we could not ask about it. In the afternoon Marian served smoked trout from Döbel in his garage, and since it became cold and rainy, also a vodka. With a hired bus we returned to Bad Polzin.
“I am relieved that I am here again, to see the whole surroundings again, and to walk the old paths again. We have lost so much. The houses and the inhabitants today are not so important to me. I gather strength and energy when I am simply here and can walk in the forests,” one participant told me.
When in a quiet hour
1st stanza of the Pomeranian Song
dreams breathe around me,
they bring joyful tidings,
spirits unseen,
speak to me of the land
of my homeland,
bright sea-shore,
gloomy forest domain.
It is indeed a deeply moving “coming home,” which is mostly connected with the landscape, with nature. In many participants there is wistfulness and even sorrow in the voice. However, again and again the descriptions of experiences from many decades ago prevail — their childhood and youth here in Hinterpommern.
From afar my mind turns to you,
3rd stanza of the Pomeranian Song
from afar it sends
a faithful greeting;
carry, gentle winds,
my greeting and song,
blow softly and gently
the sound of faithful love!
“For me the trips home are always journeys for the soul. That was my childhood, and now only an old apple tree from earlier stands. It touches me so. I only need the surroundings, the walking to all the places of earlier days. For me it is always a relief when I have been HOME!” and tears of sorrow and relief ran. one participant reported to me.
You are indeed the one
4th stanza of the Pomeranian Song
in all the world,
you are mine, I am yours,
faithfully beside you;
you can, of all those
I have ever seen,
please me alone,
Pomerania, so beautiful!
Many more impressions I could describe here, but it would fill a book.
For, of course, memories of flight or expulsion and the great suffering that befell many also came to mind. It has inflicted deep wounds. Although the wounds have healed, the scars can from time to time still cause similar pains. I believe that if we repeatedly confront and expose ourselves to this pain, good scar-healing can grow. It is worthwhile if everyone who experienced these things themselves does well by writing down these own experiences and thereby making them available to descendants. It is healing for many ALL in the family.
Now I am wandering,
5th stanza of the Pomeranian Song
now here, now there,
yet from all the others
I am always driven away:
Until in you I again
find my rest,
I send my songs
to you, O homeland!
The next day we went to the Baltic Sea. Kolberg was on the itinerary. Despite heavy wind and rain we went to the beach and into the old town.
On the return trip we stopped in Köslin and were able to explore the beautiful town centre. Passing wide forests with blueberry undergrowth, we went back to the hotel via Groß Tychow. There we were awaited at a violin concert. A large repertoire of music and singing entertained us. It was a long evening in convivial company.
The fourth day began with the trip to Groß Krössin. A photo appointment in front of the church was on the agenda. Some remained there afterwards; the others took part in a round trip through the Kashubian area. The destination was Stolp and then once again the Baltic Sea at Stolpmünde.
The last evening at the hotel began with a grilled buffet and ended in a long, long farewell evening for many participants.
Early the next day, strengthened by a delicious breakfast — here and there with a hangover — we set off on the journey back to the new homeland and to the present.
For the participants, these were beautiful and unforgettable hours in the company of former villagers. For everyone it was a journey to their own roots — and many a small bag of homeland soil was taken back with them.
Anna Herzog (+2024)