Our Father

Growing up, we knew that Warsaw, our hometown, was a city that our Dad first arrived to when he was 18 years old, but we also learnt that his journey started much earlier.We loved to listen to Dad's story of how his older brother gave him a ride in a horse wagon to Gorlice, where, for the first time in his life, he boarded a train and departed to begin his studies at the University of Warsaw.This was still before his second major surgery, when his mobility was significantly restricted by the complication from the accident and surgery a few years earlier.After an entire night spent in a crowded train, when he finally reached his destination, he found himself for the first time in a large city, uncertain where to go.We followed Dad's story eagerly and anxiously, and we shared in his feeling of relief when he realized that the University's welcome committee greeted new students and helped them find their way to the dormitories.For us, it was a story about a journey into the unknown.Having listened to it many times, we knew that it was worth it to cope with difficulties and uncertainty in order to discover the world.No matter how his world expanded, Dad would cherish and return to his roots.He often reminisced how, as a young boy, he would climb the hills surrounding Skowa and wistfully admire the towers of the town hall of Biecz.This medieval (13th century?) town some 17 km away from Skowa was beyond the reach for the country kid.Later, Biecz became Dad's favorite destination when he traveled back to Skowa.Dad's scientific career focused on discovering the world in a very literal sensehe conducted research to explore the structure of the Earth.For us, his daughters, what mattered most was his passion to pursue the mystery he was telling us about: what is hidden under the Earth's crust?As Dad was pursuing the answers, we loved to listen to stories from his travels.The essence of the unknown was the Antarctic, the place of magic beauty.With the attention to detail of a true storyteller, Dad recounted the trials he had to go through when crossing the equator, in order to receive baptismal rites from the hands of the Neptune and Persephone.With awe, we watched the images on the slides of icebergs at sunset, which Dad displayed on the walls of our living room.Most of the iceberg is hidden under the water, he always made sure to stress.This hidden part of the world he would access not only through science but also through poetry.Our parents often reminisced how Dad started their life together with a suitcase full of poetry books, little yellow collection of Polish and international poets, issued by "Nasza Ksigarnia".