Zahajovací projev Angely Pick Greenway na slavnostním uvedení pamětí Emila Picka v čáslavské synagoze

V pátek 15. května 2026 se obnovená čáslavská synagoga stala dějištěm jedinečného a emočně silného setkání, které hlubokým způsobem propojilo minulost s naší současností. V rámci slavnostního představení prvního vydání terezínských pamětí významného čáslavského průmyslníka Ing. Emila Picka se zde osobně setkali potomci zachránce a zachráněných: syn Sira Nicholase Wintona, Nick Winton Jr., a Pickova pravnučka Angela Pick Greenway. Celý program, který doprovázelo také odhalení stolpersteinu a beseda se studenty, výrazně připomněl důležitost společenské odpovědnosti a uchovávání historické paměti jako klíčového mementa pro budoucí generace. Níže přinášíme plné znění úvodního projevu Angely Pick Greenway, který na tomto výjimečném večeru zazněl.

On June 30, 1938, two small boys stood on a platform at Prague's main railway station.

John was a little boy of only six; and his older brother Peter was eight. Their last name was Pick and they had been taken from their home here in Čáslav to board the sixth of what would be a total of eight Kindertransport trains from Czechoslovakia.

They would travel by train to the coast and then board a long boat ride to England, and finally, into the arms of strangers - people they had never met, in a country they didn't know and a language they didn't understand.

In a desperate act of love, their parents handed them over to a future they couldn't see to save them from a horizon they knew was darkening.

That day was a defining moment in their lives. It changed everything for them, and for every generation that has followed.

Good evening, everyone. My name is Angela Pick Greenway. I am the daughter of John Pick - that little boy who was 6 and his grandfather, Emil Pick, was my great-grandfather.

I am deeply moved to be here today from Canada with my husband, Jim; our children, Stephanie, Jonathan, and Caroline; and four of our ten beautiful grandchildren—Sienna, Jake, Vera, and Riley. I am also delighted to be accompanied by 2 people who have inspired and supported my journey over the years - Zuzana Lobling from the National Gallery in Prague who is here with her lovely daughter Filomena and Nicola Hanefeld from Germany, author of the Unspeakable – in which she breaks her family's silence around the Holocaust. I can't thank you both enough for being here today.

To be honest, standing here is actually, very overwhelming.

It feels as though I am witnessing the final chapter of a story that began more than eighty years ago. We are gathered in this beautiful synagogue to honor a man I never met yet feel I have come to know more intimately through the words he left behind.

As I look around this room, I imagine my father who could never sit still for long—as a mischievous little boy —running up and down these very aisles while his parents looked on.

They must have believed they had his whole life planned out. They couldn't have known that instead of growing up in the warmth and love of this beautiful community, he and his brother would find themselves half a world away with only a small suitcase of memories from their past to comfort them.

My father was told it was all a "great adventure." I have this picture in my mind of my grandparents standing on that Prague train platform, as if innocence was suspended between loss and survival. They must have been waving goodbye with their hearts breaking deep inside as the train slowly pulled away.

They would never see their mother again.

For fifty years, that "adventure" remained a quiet chapter in our family history. Then, the world discovered Sir Nicholas Winton. His records, which held my father's name, were found safely tucked away in a dusty attic—a secret kept by a man who saw his heroism as simple duty.

As Winton famously said, "Don't be content in your life just to do no wrong, be prepared every day to try and do some good." Today, his act of goodness and his legacy is celebrated in films and books around the world, but for me, his legacy is right now in this room.

It brings me such profound joy to share this stage with Sir Nicholas Winton's son. How poignant it is to sit beside the son of the man who gave my father life more than 80 years ago.

In much the same way as Winton's family, we discovered the soul of Emil Pick through his memoir. It wasn't found in a library or a museum; it was uncovered by my father, in a cardboard box at the bottom of a storage cupboard. It had been there in the dark for nearly fifty years, waiting for us to find it.

Now, through the grace of the Dr. Dagmar Lieblová Foundation, Emil's legacy will never be lost again. I am very grateful to them for the care and effort poured into honouring Emil and my grandmother, Mary Pick. Earlier today, as we laid a Stolperstein in front of their villa, I felt the weight of her short life and the permanence of this lasting tribute.

I often reflect on how the most extraordinary things grow from simple human kindness. And it is a rare privilege to see how lives connect across decades and generations—how Nick's father once reached out a hand to my father, and how that thread of care from 8 decades ago still binds our families together today.

I believe that what happens to us in life is not what defines us. What truly matters is what we do with the life we are given. Because of Nicholas Winton's courage and a willingness to do something that didn't seem impossible, there are more than just the 669 children he saved – we are the thousands of lives that followed.

Against all odds, Emil survived. His son Paul survived. His grandsons John and Peter survived. His company endured, and this synagogue still stands. But most of all, his words were found.

Today, I am here as Emil's great-granddaughter, surrounded by my family. We are the living proof of his perseverance. We are the legacy of a man who refused to be forgotten.

Winton found a way to save my father, and eighty years later, together with my family and many people in this room, we found a way to bring Emil Pick's story and heritage home to Čáslav.

To everyone who helped to make this day possible, there are no words for this gratitude. We will carry this day, this moment and this appreciation, in our hearts forever.

Všechny fotografie z celého večera jsou k dispozici v tomto fotoalbu.