First there was a call. A Warsaw number. A gentleman had read my memoir "Nowolipie", and wanted to discuss it. It must have been early 1991. At my door appeared a handsome, elegant, distinguished gentleman in a light colored tweed suit. At the outset of our meeting he stated: "Let me be clear: I am not Jewish". This was a very relevant statement, since a non-Jewish reader of my memoir would read the book more objectively, even though the reader (as Janusz was) can be very moved by the fate of those who had died behind the walls of the Warsaw Ghetto. It must've been a mutually satisfying conversation, because it turned out to be the beginning of a long lasting true friendship. Initially, we kept up a steady contact over the phone, but after some time we would see each other in person since Janusz visited Poland often. He came to his house in Magdalenka, and then we would always get together. He called me with each new book that I published (and there were quite a few). Janusz was especially moved by "My Friend the King", a story about Stanisław August. He recommended my writing to friends and family. Sometimes he found something in the US that he felt I had to read, and would send it in the mail. I am grateful for his recommendation of the biography of Benjamin Franklin by Isaacson. I think Janusz enjoyed that I referenced it in one of my novels. When my memoir was published in English as "Nowolipie Street", Janusz took on the role of an unoffical distributor of the book. He purchased numerous copies, gave them out, encouraged others to read it. Prior to being a cheerleader for the book, he, along with his friend Kris Murawski, checked the translation, added some corrections, and finally approved of the English version. A lot is going on with me these days, and I frequently have the urge to share an event or a thought with Janusz, as one wants to with a true friend (a rarity these days). You left, Janusz. I lost a friend. Józef Hen