That gate did not separate, but unite people. Shipyard workers on one side, the city on the other one. Husbands on one side, wives and children on the other one. Striking workers would come in front of the gate and greet their children, often infants in prams. […] One could feel that behind that gate there was a completely different world, governed by different laws. This cannot possibly be described. I stood there, watching. I found myself on the border of a different world.

Being there, one could sense loftiness, one could sense joy, hope, seriousness and dignity. In the shipyard and in the city alike. Despite huge problems, the striking crews met with an unquestionable, widespread applause. People were tired but not the way they were tired by the situation preceding the strike. They would say: “Come what may, but let this strike continue, let it continue, for we could not possibly live they way we have lived until now.”

And we in this country could witness something marvellous, we could see people smiling sincerely, being serious, well-wishing and mature in treating one another. …]. Those were unique days.

The night view of the sea was terribly impressive. Through stationary port cranes one could see the lights of tens of vessels awaiting entry into the port. That view unfolded itself a mere several dozen metres from the hall where we were sitting, the central place of those events. That panorama of the bay with stationary ships reflected the immense strength of the strike. For after all, stationary was the whole of Poland.