Rescuers of Jews
Simanavičius Balys
Excerpt from Balys Simanavičius' Diary
The Nazis ordered to kill all children under twelve years of age, as well as old people who were unable to work. A woman whose name was Pomerancienė worked for me. Her husband was a violinist with the Kaunas theatre, who knew Kipras Petrauskas. I did not know how his wife, who worked for me, got in touch by phone with Petrauskienė and agreed that she would take his daughter. Petrauskienė agreed to take her in, but the question was how to take her there. While still in the ghetto, the girl was given a sleeping pill, and still sleeping, she was taken to the factory to an old woman. It was a Saturday and I was asked to take her to the Petrauskas’ family, but at that moment, I was unable to do it, as I had to go to Kudirkos Naumiestis to bring hides. I left Saturday in the evening and returned early in the next morning, sleepless and hungry. I changed quickly, and the old woman and I went in a cart to “baptise” the girl, who had spent the night with her. In the yard, there were some policemen, one of them was Lithuanian, the other was German. The latter used to check those who had little children with them.
At that time, Kipras Petrauskas lived on Laisvės alėja, and I had to take the girl along present Požėlos Street, which led straight to Laisvės alėja. However, on the corner of the intersection of Laisvės alėja and Raudonosios armijos prospektas some policemen were standing. They stopped me and asked me where I was going. Fortunately, I knew one of the policemen. I said that I was taking the girl to the Cathedral to be baptised. They believed me, besides, I had German documents. We went round the Town Hall and finally reached the Petrauskas’ house driving along the embankment of the Nemunas.
I took the girl into my arms and ran into the hall. I climbed to the first floor, rang the bell and waited. I had to wait long or perhaps it only seemed to me so. Waiting, I looked at the girl, she was looking at me and kept silent; she seemed as though asking me to save her, and I was so sorry for her. And I thought that if Petrauskienė did not take her in, I would not abandon her. At that moment, the door opened and Petrauskienė appeared. I told her: “I have brought you a present.” She only asked what her name was. I did not know, and had the idea to name her Dana, and she remained Dana. Such is Dana Pomerancaitė’s story. Later she graduated from the Vilnius Conservatoire, took a postgraduate course in Moscow, and worked as a teacher at the Kiev Conservatoire. She married the violinist Mazurkevičius. She and her family have left the Soviet Union, and I have heard from reliable sources that she lives in Canada.
1982
The Nazis ordered to kill all children under twelve years of age, as well as old people who were unable to work. A woman whose name was Pomerancienė worked for me. Her husband was a violinist with the Kaunas theatre, who knew Kipras Petrauskas. I did not know how his wife, who worked for me, got in touch by phone with Petrauskienė and agreed that she would take his daughter. Petrauskienė agreed to take her in, but the question was how to take her there. While still in the ghetto, the girl was given a sleeping pill, and still sleeping, she was taken to the factory to an old woman. It was a Saturday and I was asked to take her to the Petrauskas’ family, but at that moment, I was unable to do it, as I had to go to Kudirkos Naumiestis to bring hides. I left Saturday in the evening and returned early in the next morning, sleepless and hungry. I changed quickly, and the old woman and I went in a cart to “baptise” the girl, who had spent the night with her. In the yard, there were some policemen, one of them was Lithuanian, the other was German. The latter used to check those who had little children with them.
At that time, Kipras Petrauskas lived on Laisvės alėja, and I had to take the girl along present Požėlos Street, which led straight to Laisvės alėja. However, on the corner of the intersection of Laisvės alėja and Raudonosios armijos prospektas some policemen were standing. They stopped me and asked me where I was going. Fortunately, I knew one of the policemen. I said that I was taking the girl to the Cathedral to be baptised. They believed me, besides, I had German documents. We went round the Town Hall and finally reached the Petrauskas’ house driving along the embankment of the Nemunas.
I took the girl into my arms and ran into the hall. I climbed to the first floor, rang the bell and waited. I had to wait long or perhaps it only seemed to me so. Waiting, I looked at the girl, she was looking at me and kept silent; she seemed as though asking me to save her, and I was so sorry for her. And I thought that if Petrauskienė did not take her in, I would not abandon her. At that moment, the door opened and Petrauskienė appeared. I told her: “I have brought you a present.” She only asked what her name was. I did not know, and had the idea to name her Dana, and she remained Dana. Such is Dana Pomerancaitė’s story. Later she graduated from the Vilnius Conservatoire, took a postgraduate course in Moscow, and worked as a teacher at the Kiev Conservatoire. She married the violinist Mazurkevičius. She and her family have left the Soviet Union, and I have heard from reliable sources that she lives in Canada.
1982