Nicholas and Alexandra and all their children were executed by the Bolshevicks at Ekterinburg in 1918. There were no surviving family members, only grand nephews and nieces. Some claimed that Anastasia survived the masacre, but her claim has since been disproven by DNA testing. Anthony E. Goralski claims to be the grandson of Nicholas through a morganatic mairrage.
HBC has not yet developed information on Anastasia, but plans to do so.
Figure 1.--This is a photograph of Tony at about 2 years of age. I believe the photograph was taken in 1941 before the war begun. They look to be a fairly privilidged family in Soviet Russia.
Anthony E. Goralski claims to be the grandson of Tsar Nicholas II. Mr. Goralski contacred HBC and suggested that HBC look at the information on his website with information on his claim. His story is certainly colorful. His first 10 years were spent in Europe and then he grew up in America. I don't know how much of his account to credit. One discouraging aspect of his page is the virulent anti-semitism, despite being raised in America. It is a testimony to how deely rooted anti-semitism is in the Russian psyche.
Goralski claims, "Most people did not know, that Nicholas II, Last Emperor of Russia had two Daughters named Maria. Both my Mother and his other Maria were his favorites. My mother was his morganatic daughter, born of desperation's to people involved in great changes and upheavals. When Peter Stalipin was murdered in front of my grandfather's eyes, in Kiev Russia, he was shaken. His own Mother, Maria Federovna Empress Mother of Russia, Wife of Alexander III, convinced him to
have another child. At that time, Alexandra was blamed for infecting the Russian Royal Blood lines with Hemophilia. So that by having another child, through blood lines, they hoped to cleanse them, and to return it to Purity."
He goes on to explain that, "My Grandmother Adela was chosen as the woman to carry that honor and responsibilities. She also was a Daughter of Alexander III, Father of Nicholas II, and My Grandmother. My mother Maria was born in Baku Russia, on October 19th 1912." My Mother Maria, Daughter of Nicholas II, lived in many places. Baku, where she was born. In Kiev. Dmitrovka, which offered safety, anonymity, and hope for the future. Other factors why my mother survived, was that her other sister, was at one time married to a very prominent chekist. Who was very close to Andropov, Breznev, and Khrushchev. In 1935, he received what he sowed. His name appeared on a list of those that Stalin decided were expandable. He disappeared. But the connections and safety stayed. My Mother's Close friend from Kiev Tanya, Stenov, Dzuba, Shisler, her mother was a private nurse to Breznev. Tanya died in Florida, as well as her Mother.
He was born in Kiev Russia. Today known as Kiev Ukraine. At the time of his birth, February 20, 1939, The former Soviet Union was still intact.
My Mother Maria, Grandmother Adela, Lived through those days of Stalin's Red Terrors. - A the end of 1938, my mother met my Father Erick Goralski, Guraliuk. - They married. And I was born February 20th, 1939. Actually February 18, 1939. Dates changed in Germany to save me from being returned to Stalinist Russia. But also my birth only was a prelude to greater conflicts and violence that uprooted me, and my family from the place of my birth, Kiev Russia. "Winds of those times, The Winds of Changes" enveloped Europe and Russia. Carrying me one half way around the world.
Figure 2.--This photograph looks to be taken at about the same time in 1941 as the photograph above. The bangs, short pants, and strap shoes look similat to what a boy in a privlidged European family might have worn.
My Mother Maria, Daughter of Nicholas II, became an Accountant. My Father
graduated as an Architectural Engineer. In Kiev Russia. I was taken out of Kiev
Russia, by the Germans at a very early age. Raised by my Grandmother, and never
knew that my Father had 3 other brothers. Grandmother kept that secret from me.
My father's profession kept us alive. Hitler, when he found out that my father was
an architect, one of the best, made him an offer. To work for Albert Speres on
Hitler's Dream City, or my father's family would suffer. He loved us and agreed.
To make his point, Hitler placed me, my mother and grandmother into Aushvitz.
We were released after my Father agreed to work for Speres. On Hitler's Dream
City, and his Offices, in Austria. Hitler, the name brings up controversy, yet when
taking away the term "Hitler" - Looking at the architecture, it was the finest of
those times. I met Hitler at almost the end of the war in Bergesgaden. His private
residence in the Mountains. At that time he was mad. Very angry and at times incoherent. Hollering at my Father. Who showed him drawings that he made.
Those were difficult times for us, strangers in other people's Lands. Trying to exist. During those days, I traveled thought most of the German occupied territories. Germany, Austria, Bavaria, Czechoslovakia, Poland, and many other countries then.
World War II, ended for us, me in a remote location called Draxelsreed. Three
houses on a hill. We had the upstairs apartment. It was the only safe place that my
Father could locate. He was not there. We were in Bavaria. - One day, our
Landlady was brought back to were we were. Her body covered in Blood. She
went to seek food with others, and was shot by the remaining Germans soldiers. --
One day, the remaining authorities ordered us to fly white flags. Pillow cases,
anything that was white. - Then silences. Not long after, after the German soldiers
retreated, and column of Americans came. The column, passed our houses by.
They continued on. Yet at that time, and moments, we realized other conquerors,
other systems, and other ways. Not long after, we moved again, into a camp. My
Father showed up. Then to a series of other camps. And then to a camp in
Ingolshtadt. - In a previous camp, next to a bombed out German airfield, I went
into a field. Picked up a glass tube. Threw it, ran, and my legs disappeared. It was a
phosphorus bomb. I spent time in a hospital in Neiburg Germany. The German
Doctors performed experimental operation, and which worked. They sowed my
feet back together. While I was at that hospital, my mother told me that my father
was there also. He was very sick. I visited him in that hospital. Shortly after, he
died at that hospital from tuberculosis. He was buried in Neiburg Germany. His remains to be there only 8 years. My mother cried. We were alone. My Mother, Grandmother and I. - We buried my father,visited his grave as best we could. While in Ingolshtadt at the Polish camp, Grandmother located her brother Fedia in
America. Corresponded with him, and he agreed to bring us to America. Father died in 1947, and with correspondences, Papers, Visas, and needed arrangements, we immigrated to America on December 24, 1949.
Figure 3.--This photograph of Tomy looks to have been taken at about the same time his father died and he and his mother emmigrated to America.
From the time of my birth in Kiev Russia, My life filled itself with great dramatic events. I remember only bits and pieces, of Kiev, and Dmitrovka. The rest in Germany, travels and insecurities. No stability. Witnessing great turmoils. Seeing
death. Loss of Life. Ruination. Destruction. In the end hope. We visited my father
for the last time in Neiburg. Yet he was with us forever. In our minds and in our
souls. We spent several more weeks in camps, before we were transported on the
General Blachford to America. While on a Train to somewhere, in Germany, I
swore that if we ever came to rest somewhere, I would not move or leave that
safety. On December 24th, 1949 we came to such a place in America, Cleveland
Ohio. Met with what remained of Royalty. That secret mission which my
Grandfather Nicholas II, sent Fred Still on, Fred Lived. Grandmother's brother.
After almost 45 years she reached, what she once knew, and cared for. Her
covenant existed thought her life time. She was true to her words. She, came close
to her past. Her long arduous journey ended. On that same night, I overheard them
talking, and found out that secret which she carried for the most part of her life.
She had the TSAR's Baby, my mother Maria. - To her, the blood lines still
counted. Revealed and treasured. She always was a Princess, that held her head
high at all times. America, turned out to be her long sunset. Although she was free,
and made herself useful, took care of my Grandfather and me, as well as his sickly
wife, her life was sliding to a predictable end. My Mother worked for Joseph and
Feis. Walked to work every day. Then in 1953, she was diagnosed with internal
cancer. Her slow, and painful slide down hill came at first slowly, and then more
rapidly. In the end, she could not eat, vomited in bed, and suffered greatly.
Grandmother was by her bed at all times, and so was I. She died at age 43. An
early death. The daughter of Nicholas II. A Princess. In 1954. Is buried in
Cleveland. My grandfather's wife also died that same year. Although we were
brought to the US as servants, and she was cruel to us, Fred's wife, on her death
bed she kissed my grandmother's hand for her kindness. Then she died. My mother
died, January 10, 1954, and Freds wife died in September. Brother and sister
remained in that old house. Mostly existing and reminiscing of the old days. When
Stalin died in 1952, my grandmother appeared to relax somewhat. Opened up
more. Started to correspond with people in far away places. She was a part of
something old, deeply buried, yet old bonds still remained. She was one half sister
of Olga Kulekovski, who also moved to Toronto in 1948. I believe they corresponded, secretly, keeping old ties, yet very carefully protecting one another.
They had 4 years together. Then he died in 1958.
Figure 4.--The Goralski website is a bit rambling. I can't find where he explains who these children are and how they were related. The photograph looks to have been taken in Kiev during the late 1930s, about the time Goralski was born.
She and I remained. Her strength weakening. On my Mother's death bed, I promised to take care of my
Grandmother, and Fred. During my growing up years, I attended school, and worked at a hospital. Making sure that Fred and Grandmother had money. Little
time remained for me, to do the things that young people do. - In Germany and in Russia, we were used to highly regimented societies, and class distinctions. In
America, class meant little. People were what grandmother defined as uncouth, placing their feet on tables in front of Ladies. No culture she stated many times over. She, my grandmother tried to tech me much, her ways and experiences. To a point, she realized success, and placed in her thoughts and experiences, from her own life time.
In those days, I was young, and stupid. I wanted to run and play. To have a life of my own. Being prevented from doing that by realities that confronted
us then. I worked many hours, many shifts, burning my energies so that she and I
could survive. So that we could have something. In my quest, I became involved in
Politics. Joined the Republican Party. Worked in the Party, and was a candidate for
office several times. State House of Representatives, in 1964, and a candidate for
State Senate in 1966. Also a candidate for Council man in 1983. Endorsed by the
Party. A member of the Young Republicans, Local and State. Held several offices,
and received several awards and recognitions State wide. Later in Life, I
participated in other affairs, receiving more than 32 Awards and recognitions from
US Senate, White House, and Congress. I worked with, knew and know many of
the most prominent figures in our (American) political structure.
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