They called the cops in Parczew

As I was rummaging around the remnants of the old turn of the 20th century home I heard a voice.
I was behind the store which was numbered No.7A and saw the old building behind the pathway which was part of a more modern sub division.
They had obviously demolished most of this house which was actually No.7 Zabia Street. The most rear section stood right on the edge of the property adjacent to a small stream running directly behind it.
You could clearly see where the room had been totally bricked shut with more modern bricks. I knew instinctively that this was the actual remnant of the original home and would have to be No.7
I was beside myself with anger while filming when I heard Sol yell out...
"there's a biker here to help us".
I immediately commented how the bikers were always our helpers and was gladdened that a selfless biker had stopped to offer assistance to two other bikers.
I was filming with my phone at the time and as Sol and the biker walked towards me Sol asked the biker if he could confirm if this was indeed No.7 To this he said yes, this is 7.
I lowered the phone but left the recording of the video running. I did not want to put this man in the firing line like a paparazzi photographer confronting and putting someone on the spot.
I merely wanted him to listen to me and then see his reaction. When I told him "my mother was born here" he looked a little more serious. When I told him that my mother was taken from here and sent to Auschwitz he turned bright red as he repeated the word Auschwitz.
He got the message loud and clear. My mother was born here and was taken to Auschwitz with the rest of the family and only my mother and her older sister survived.
He was actually gutted. I didn't really at that point understand why he was so shocked but I was glad he knew what had happened.
Of course we had no idea that this biker was on the job. Sol and the biker walked back to the street while I continued to look around the old house and its surrounds. I filmed a little more and began venting to myself wondering what might have been had the nazis and their Polish collaborators not been there to destroy the whole Jewish population of Poland.
When I walked back to the street I saw Sol and the biker talking and exchanging pleasantries. I was facing the biker and was in no mood for any more talking when the biker suddenly put his official cap on.
He looked at me and said..."you know I must tell you that I am a local Policeman".
He was surprised as I began laughing. Sol cringed and said nothing.
I walked right up to the cop and patted him on the right shoulder saying..."can you do me a favour and go into the store at No.7A and tell them that I am not here to take back my families property".
The look of relief on his face was something I will never forget. I further told him..."I do not need this property and only came here to see the place where my family lived before the war".
With a smile on his face he ran into the store. Minutes later a very tall man came out smiling and approached me with his hand outstretched. I shook his hand and he thanked me.
The story was obvious. When I had entered the store after seeing the No.7A on the stores door, I motioned to a young woman in the store after covering the letter A on her doorframe. I pointed to the 7 and shrugged my shoulders in a questioning motion as if to ask "where is No.7?"
She immediately dropped any eye contact from me and ran into the rear of the store.
When the cop spilled the beans about the fact that he was a local Policemen I realised immediately what had occurred. This woman called the cops and probably told them the Jews are here looking for a property.
The cop was sent out to do some reconnaissance to determine our intentions.
Both Sol and I realised the tension needed to be diffused or we may be in line for more than a traffic ticket in this remote town in south east Poland.
The fact is, of the 5100 Jewish souls who had lived in Parczew at the outbreak of the war, all but just under 200 survived the war.
The next fact is that some 60 of those survivors returned to the town in 1946 to reclaim their homes. All but a handful of those returnees left Parczew with their lives, the rest were murdered by locals who had taken their properties and were not going to give the Jews anything back.
I was aware of all and many other facts about the locals here in Parczew so telling the cop I didn't need our family property was a self preservation move.
I will leave you with one last fact. As my mother and her Jewish neighbors were being marched down Zabia St. towards the Parczew train station to take them to Lublin by the nazi SS scum and the Polish police, she told me many of their Polish non Jewish neighbors stood on the footpaths (sidewalks) on both sides of the street and were clapping gleefully.