Here is what my Father wrote about Filip and his family:

“Filip married Eugenia Doczyło in 1916.

Eugenia’s mother was a Decker by birth, the youngest daughter of Fryderyk, whose handsome grave monument stands in the cemetery in Dynów. Walking towards the chapel, you will find it just before the chapel, on the left, along a side path.

Her name was Karolina. Her unmarked grave is in the old cemetery, just beside the path on the left as you enter.

Old Fryderyk leased the Ulanica estate. In old age, he bought himself a house on a corner of the market square, opposite Wrona’s. The house was later bought by Krasnopolski, the baker. It has since been demolished, and the new pharmacy was built on its site.

Fryderyk Decker was an Austrian who had settled here and become thoroughly Polish. He had four daughters and a son, Józef — Ewa Decker’s grandfather — a doctor in Warsaw who was married to a Chmielewska from Przemyśl.

Fryderyk’s youngest daughter married Jakób Doczyło, a court official whom we would today call the ‘head of the land registry’.

This Doczyło, who died in Przemyśl on 26 October 1935, was a Greek Catholic, that is, a Ruthenian, which in the old days made no difference. Politics did not enter into it then.

He was not a Ukrainian in the sense of being a nationalist, but looked rather towards Tsarist Russia — and paid for it.

Through the folly of the Austrian authorities, this quiet man, who had never harmed anyone, was put in prison at Thalerhof in Tyrol.

After his wife’s death, he married again, this time a Ruthenian woman who was the daughter of a priest. They had one son, who died in childhood.

By his first wife, Fryderyk’s daughter, he had three daughters: Eugenia, Janina and Stanisława — the younger ones fiercely Polish — and a son, Stefan, who, like his father, was a Greek Catholic. A very decent man, quiet and gentle. I knew them all well.

He died on 13 May 1942.

He was married to Julia — I cannot remember her surname — a splendid, dark-browed Ukrainian woman who owned a house in Lipowica, at the end of 3 Maja Street, where she also had a few morgens of land. But the marriage was not happy, I think because of their views. She died a few years later, leaving her entire estate to Ukrainian causes. Some society called ‘Prosvita’, or something similar. She could have left it to Filip and his family, who were poor and could have made very good use of it. Well! It could not be helped!

While their father, Jakób Doczyło, was imprisoned during the war — and Stefan too, I believe — the daughters, Stefan’s sisters, sold their house, where the Sokół society was based and later the cinema. They lived at Banat’s in Zamczysko, where Jaśka Patkiewicz later lived.

I visited them there often, and we were all on familiar terms. I used to go with Dusia Banach, who was their friend. They were all intelligent young women, and I learned a great deal in their company.

The father, Leonard Stemerowicz, was a military doctor in Bosnia. Later, after the war, he worked in Poland as a doctor for the Health Insurance Fund in Przemyśl. He had a splendidly equipped consulting room and was a very decent man, but my Mother said he was a poor doctor. He was excessively pious, while his wife, Maria, née Wójcik, had a fiery temperament and could scarcely contain herself — something the older ladies observed with distaste.”