Genealogy is an increasingly popular pastime. Jonathan Groubert travelled to England and Poland in search of the truth behind his family’s emigration from Europe to America at the turn of the 20th century.  

This is my family's story, but it could be yours too. Ours goes like this: my grandfather, Isaac, and all his family were from a small city in north western Poland called Konin. In 1905 they emigrated, no, escaped Polish anti-Semitism, grinding poverty and vicious persecution to a glorious new life of freedom and complete tolerance in America in 1906.

I know next to nothing about my family's history, where they lived, what they did, what kind of people they were. But one thing was made clear: the Poles were terrible people who kept the Jews isolated and that I should hate them. I should hate them for the unforgivable sin of the organised attacks and public vilification known to all Jews for its utter infamy: the dreaded pogrom.
 

 
It seems this was all a lie.

Fate of the Jews
"There is no reason to believe that the Jews suffered from any pogrom's in Poland at the end of the 19th century," said Theo Richmond, taking a sip from a cup of espresso. The author of the book 'Konin: a Quest' knows more than anyone about the history and fate of the city's Jewish community. I spoke with this genteel writer at his house in a leafy suburb of London, also called Richmond.

His father was a man named Rychka, a Jewish immigrant from Konin. His family and, as I have now learned, my family left Konin simply to seek a better life elsewhere. "Perhaps one of your myths is this idea of an implacable hatred of the Jews by the Poles. This is not entirely fair. Of course there was anti-Semitism, but there was anti-Semitism everywhere. Remember, Poland was a refuge for Jews escaping from Spain.”

No Persecution

Dr Lucja Pawlicka Nowak is the director of the Konin Regional Museum and the self- appointed curator of the Judaica [historical and literary materials relating to Judaism] which survived the Jewish community's decimation in the Holocaust. She even has the last remaining Torah Scroll from the old synagogue. She agrees that there was no Jewish persecution at that time. "I found some traces of conflict, but no pogroms, no burning houses, no killing people, no destroying property. Please remember the Jews have always been a closed community. They were not easily assimilated. This could have resulted in friction, but only friction." I asked her if she knew my family name. She did not.

 
Family roots
Desperate for any information about my family history, I looked up Konin's birth, death and marriage records at the municipal archives in Poznan. There I found records of the marriage of someone who could have been my great, great grandfather, Chaim Beryl Graubert (sometimes Grobert, or even Graubarz depending upon the entry).

I read with fascination about how he and his wife Brucha produced five children, one of whom died at five years of age. And I was shocked to discover he was illiterate, very rare amongst Jews who must learn to read in order to worship. He was also poor. He began his career as a shoemaker but was quickly demoted to handyman. No surprise then that his descendent, my grandfather Isaac, wanted to start fresh somewhere else. Of Isaac himself I found nothing in the archives.

In the end I visited Konin's old synagogue, now the local public library. It is a place where all my ancestors surely prayed, married and celebrated. It is the last tangible connection to a people about whom I know next to nothing. I don't know why that matters, but it does.

The American writer Ambrose Bierce defined genealogy as "An account of one's descent from an ancestor who did not particularly care to trace his own." That may explain why all I have of them is a building that is now a library and a few names in a few ledgers. And, oh yes, I have one more thing, I finally have the truth.
 

 
‘Family Mystery, Family Myths’ was produced and presented by Jonathan Groubert. The documentary was originally broadcast in March 2006.