A friend not long returned from a tour of Baltic countries, was enthusing about the beauties of the city of Gdansk. (You may have seen on a recent People's Century TV programme, how the downfall of the Communist regime began with the irrespressible energy and idealism of the shipyard workers of Gdansk under the leadership of Lech Walesa.)
And, as everybody knows, Gdansk used to be called Danzig. And, as Danzig, it was reduced to rubble towards the end of the second World War. Our friend had seen pictures of the city pre 1939, then of the flat desert made in 1945 of the oldest, historical part, with its lovely Hansa period houses, tall, slim, with a stoop or sitting out area in, front. All this, the old city as it was called, was levelled by Soviet artillery, not aerial bombs.
Then, how many years after, he couldn't remember, lo and be hold, the old houses are back. Restored is not the word - but recreated by the Polish people who now rule there. It wasn't done to lure tourists or to placate German feelings. It was done, a Polish friend assured him, just out of a respect for history.
And here's the point for today. You look around Dublin, and you see a skyline almost dominated by building cranes. And they are not restoring old decencies. They may put up fair enough buildings in some cases; in so many, they are just vast boxes. People used to be crass enough to say that what was coming down was, anyway, a legacy of English rule and a reminder of a time when we were not masters in our own house.
But the Poles, with centuries of bitter memories of their country being absorbed by German as well as Austrian and Russian, could, when they regained Danzig/Gdansk, recreate the work of generations of largely German merchants. A debt to his tory. The Poles have long memories. They have also, as this case shows, a fine sense of their own responsibilities and dignity.