Michael Matulewicz
Guest Speaker
Polish Constitution Day Commemoration
Tuesday, May 3, 2016 - 9:30 A.M.
Historical 1724 Court House
Avenue of the States
Chester, Pennsylvania

First of all I would like to express my sincere thanks to the Polish American community of Delaware County and to the Polish American Congress for the opportunity to speak to you today. It was truly an honor to have been asked to address all of you on this important anniversary and I hope my remarks will do my invitation justice. Although my background is in the study of history, I do not wish to give you a mere lecture on the history of Poland or recall the specific facts, dates, and names that lead up to the May 3rd Polish Constitution. If you permit me, I would rather offer a more reflective piece on the importance of this day as I have come to understand it given my own status as a Polish-American.

Today’s selling point, so to speak, is that on May 3rd 1791 Poland ratified the Second oldest democratic constitution in the world. Second that is to the United States Constitution of 1789. Indeed inspired by the spirit of the American Revolution as well as the French Revolution, the date of the events we commemorate is no coincidence, nor is the part of particular players in its drama such as General Tadeusz Kosciusko. But while it is true that the American and Polish constitutions are close to each other in birth, in actual use there is a vast difference. The Polish version having only been implemented for a year while the United State’s version having lasted without interruption for 227 years. Indeed from a historical perspective, it might be easy to dismiss this “Second Oldest” declaration as a fancy tagline for what was in reality an opportunity for new birth that was summarily killed before it reached any hope of maturity. As quickly as the constitution was ratified, it, along with its proud nation, once the largest in Europe, resplendent with a history and heritage stretching back centuries, was divided by her powerful autocratic neighbors, as the entire world looked on without comment. The May 3rd holiday itself was celebrated officially beginning in 1919 with the rebirth of the Polish state following World War I, but was eliminated by the Communist government during the Cold War. In a certain view, the Polish constitution of the Third of May could be considered one of history’s biggest failures, if not one of democracy’s greatest tragedies. However, today we do not give a cause for lament, but for celebration: Why is this so?

I would like for you to imagine for a minute, not that we are in Eighteenth Century Europe but the oddly specific date of October 12, 1900 right here on the Delaware River not far from this very spot. Steaming up the busy river we see a relatively small, rust-stained ship that has just completed an exhausting 2 week long voyage across the Atlantic. As with many ships in this era, her cargo consists of a large number of immigrants, mainly from Eastern and Southern Europe. With little thought given by the crew for proper recording much less spelling of their last names, they clamor for a view of this, the New World. Among these Hungarians, Slovaks, and Lithuanians, (all technically citizens of Russia, Austria, or Germany I might add) is a young dirty-blonde haired Polish teenager of 17 named Pawel (or if you prefer Paul in English).
Now this young man has never traveled more than a few miles outside his rural farming village in Northeastern Poland. His life has been centered on his faith, his family, the harvest, and of course…the constant oppression of Russian controlled Poland (remember Poland as a nation did not even exist from 1793-1919). His 4300 mile journey, fraught with numerous perils at land and at sea has no doubt been a source of constant home and sea sickness. Yet, the promise of prosperity and a better life, has caused our young immigrant friend to press on and confront all the danger and uncertainty with an almost heroic strength.

As the ship docks, an ever changing, and deafening, cacophony of sounds and smells confront him at every turn. The hustle of the immigration station on Washington Avenue, the panic at not comprehending a sign or understanding an official, strange foods and languages, all the while no doubt causes young Paul to wish he could just turn around and head home to his mother and the familiar. With unknown strength he presses on, somehow finds his train, and travels the comparatively few hundred miles inland to a small Pennsylvania coal mining town where his new life is to begin. Far from being over, the next several years will cause him to confront another set of struggles. Besides the idyllic promise of easy opportunity is the sometimes brutal realities of the life of an immigrant coal miner. Long, dark days spent beneath the earth, shoveling tons of anthracite to the industrializing nation above. Labor unrest, discrimination, and a myriad of other difficulties are a part of Pawel’s everyday life.

Still, amidst the coal dust darkened sky is a light: Here he finds the unencumbered freedom to worship as he chooses. No fear of a Russian soldier’s attack or foreign invasion haunts his days. Here he is able to work and provide, conducting his life in his own language, as stories of increased struggles reach him from his family at home in the lead up to World War I. He finds love in a Polish-American bride and they produce four boys. Although they too must face their own realities of the early Twentieth Century as breaker boys, all are healthy and show nothing but signs that they will grow up strong willed and prosperous as American-born citizens.
And what of Pawel’s reward for his struggles? The balmy grey dawn of August 3 1916 begins like any other summer day, yet by its end Pawel is tragically killed at the tender age of 34. Lost in a preventable coal mine accident, he leaves his four boys, the oldest of whom is only 8, fatherless, and his wife, a widow.

Now, you may be asking why on earth would I choose to bring such a downer of a story to a day that is meant to be of celebration and unity? My reason for this is that even in what is a tragic story, a bright spot can be found. For the immigrant I tell the tale of was none other than my great-great grandfather, Pawel Matulewicz. I share his story because although his life may have ended in tragedy a hundred years ago this very August, I proudly stand here today to proclaim the spirit and promise of freedom that the Third of May, as well as our US Constitution guarantee. My family’s immigrant story is like countless others, no doubt the equal of which can be found in the family trees and DNA of this very room. For it is with my daily existence that I proudly carry Pawel’s surname, which without hesitation I correct the mispronunciation of, but also the physical reward of the many hardships he and my other ancestors carried with them.

Among his direct descendants are counted a US Navy SEAL, a state policeman, a geologist, and a respected doctor. A blue collar barber, a shipyard worker, a school bus driver, and just this past year, the duly elected Northumberland County Pennsylvania District Attorney all call themselves Matulewicz. Only in a land with a constitution that truly guarantees freedom and opportunity, could a young Polish farmer turned American coal miner ensure such a future for his descendants.

I would like to leave you with a few thoughts as I seek to properly commemorate this year’s 225th Anniversary of the Polish Constitution of May 3rd. The first words of the Polish National Anthem are: “Jeszcze Polska nie zginela” which can be translated as: Poland has not yet perished. It is with this phrase in mind that I believe we should recognize the spirit and promise that we commemorate today in this expression of Polish and American history. Although like my grandfather, this first Polish Constitution may have been killed in its youth by the fate of history, the flower of freedom that has bloomed in the Late Twentieth and Early Twenty-First Century for its descendants in Europe and America is nothing short of inspiring. The Polish historian George Wiegel once referred to World War II as the “war Poland lost twice” in describing her fall back under the influence of the foreign Soviet Union. But with the Fall of the Iron Curtain in Eastern Europe, instigated by the Polish-born Pope St. John Paul the Great there is found a triumph of the Polish independent spirit which I believe predates May 3rd, 1791, October 12, 1900, or June 2, 1979 as a birthdate. As we consider our own place and time, it is important that we commemorate these events, and draw lessons for our present and future.
Last week as part of my usual visit to the Polish American Cultural Center in Philadelphia, I purchased a book of poetry as part of the Museum’s fundraising sale. I desire to leave you finally with a poem from this volume as I believe it appropriate to the message I wish to convey today. It was written in 1966 by the then Karol Kardinal Wojtyla, Archbishop of Krakow on the occasion of Poland’s Millennium of Christianity.

“A Conversation with God Begins”
The human body in history dies more often and earlier than the tree.
Man endures beyond the doors of death in catacombs and crypts,
Man who departs endures in those who follow.
Man who follows endures in those departed.
Man endures beyond all coming and going in himself and in you.
The history of men, such as I, always looks for the body you will give them.
Each man in history loses his body and goes towards you.
In the moment of departure, each is greater than history, although but a part (a fragment of a century or two merged into one life).

It is therefore in this spirit as a free Polish-American and with absolutely pride that I can only close with God Bless America and Boze cos Polske! Thank You.