Dear Zocha, Tomek, Kasia and Family, When I read the news about Janusz’s passing, the world suddenly became a darker and sadder place, for he was a man of great spirit, always. Janusz was one of the people who opened the door to Poland for me. I can never forget our stays at the apartment on Wiejska or our visits to Magdalenka. And, finally, out of all of this developed our families’ friendship. When I first arrived at the Warsaw airport on my first trip to Poland, Janusz greeted us and showed us the way to his VW Beetle, parked just outside. To me, coming from the West, this was not just any Beetle. Despite its size, he made sure that the car could hold a refrigerator on top, if need be, and a vacuum cleaner underneath, if possible. It seemed as though he had kept it going with glue and string. Despite the gray, gloomy atmosphere of Warsaw during the communist era, he filled our visit with sunshine, fun and great stories. The transition from West to East was very easy for me, especially a first time visitor to Poland because of your dad and mom. Thank you, Janusz and Zocha. This initiation created in me a love of and for Poland, its history, its culture and its spirit – and its vodka! He also invited us to visit you in Magdalenka. Tamara was then 6 years old, and Teddy had not been born yet. When we walked into the house, and, as I recall it was built by your grandfather, Tomek immediately jumped into Kasia’s crib. Whereupon, Tamara asked Tomek, “Is this your bed? “ And Tomek replied, “Yes, this is my bed.” Janusz remarked that this exchange sounded like a primary English lesson or English 101! And then, Zocha reprimanded Tomek for having jumped into the crib, telling him to climb out immediately. And Zocha continued making her beautiful ceramic jewelry, and cooking wonderful meals for us. She always made sure that all of us were eating nearly non-toxic veggies and fruits. I say this because many folks got very sick from the toxic chemical sprays on the food at the time. It always required much washing and boiling. It was also in Magdalenka where Tamara learned how to ride a bike. Janusz led the way down the dirt path, as she maneuvered the bike, passing tall, magnificent birches. Who can ever forget that? And then, he told us about his parents hiding 20 + people in the house during the war, three people living in the bathroom. He also mentioned that he could hear gunfire going off the in the forest at night. Very scary and disturbing. He was only a child then, and I cannot imagine the angst and fear he experienced. Later on, he told me that one night during WWII, it was after curfew and his father had not come home yet. His mother became very worried. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and a German soldier stood there, albeit very, very drunk, quite soused. Your grandmother turned the soldier around and pushed him down the stairs, where he passed out on the landing. Fortunately, shortly thereafter, your grandfather entered through the back of the building and stepped over the soldier, finally arriving home safely. On another occasion, he told us a story about an entire Jewish family in the Warsaw Ghetto, who survived the entire war intact. How? He said that they had a telephone. We again visited Magdalenka on our next trip after Teddy had been born. Janusz babysat, while we went for a walk along the path by the birches. When we returned, Janusz was laughing. I said, “What happened?” He told us that Teddy was lying on the blanket outside and suddenly urinated, making a huge arch! Too late for a diaper. Another time, a WWII movie was being filmed in Warsaw. The set was dark and gray, very mysterious and creepy. As we walked by the film set, Janusz remembered exactly every sign and nuance from his own experience, noting which signage was in the wrong color. He also spoke frankly about the 1968 anti-semitism that forced many Jews to leave Poland then and in the years that followed. Clearly, he was very disturbed by this. Despite it being a brain drain, he felt deeply for those who were ousted from jobs, therefore leaving no choice but to emigrate from Poland. He told us that he was offered the Chair of his department around 1977 or so. However, he turned it down for moral and ethical reasons, knowing that his superiors would require that he fire more people. Your dad also encouraged us to visit Berlin. It was a decade before the Berlin Wall fell. He told me that Berlin’s divided city would be a magnet for me, and that I would relish the experience. Did I ever. We visited both East and West. Traversing Checkpoint Charlie was an eerie experience beyond belief, totally unforgettable. Everything was silent, not quiet. Spooky. I vividly remember Kasia and Tamara lipsyncing to ABBA in the Wiejska apartment, using a jump rope as their pretend microphone. And then your dad would play his Fats Domino records. And finally the Janusz and Zocha Beer clan/rodzina came to the US, and we took you to Nauset Beach on Cape Cod where we snacked on hot chocolate and muffins early, early in the AM. I always thought that your parents’ immigration experience was exceptional. No sooner than they were here, they managed to get scientific positions, bought a house, and made sure you received quality university educations. Clearly, their scientific talents and achievements were recognized and put to good use here. We were so fortunate that they decided to emigrate from Poland. In addition, I remember so well how many scientific colleagues would seek your dad out at meetings. Not only would they exchange ideas, but they were very eager to hear his perspectives and just hang out with him so that he could regale them with many a tale. I can still see him chatting with my husband, Chris, John Lett, Ann Cox and Mysza Kapieszewska. I would also like to say something about your grandmother. We visited her at her Warsaw apartment during Solidarity. Despite the fact that her body was stooped and bent from age, her mind and awareness were keen. She warned us to be careful as we left the building, since two men were watching it. She was absolutely amazing, as was your dad. And, finally, Janusz was a terrific letter writer with a beautiful penmanship. (What is penmanship, you ask?!) His famous Christmas letters will be sorely missed. He adored all of you. Absolutely loved you. We send you our deepest condolences, and we will always cherish such joyous memories of Janusz, a great humanitarian with a deep soul. Love, Eleanor