<commit_before>---
layout: post
title:  <NAME>
date:   2022-07-31
categories: tools
featured_image: /assets/2022-07-31/star-of-david.png
meta_keywords: Holocaust, family
---
This post is not like my usual posts.

Over the last two weeks, I went on a [Birthright](https://www.birthrightisrael.com/) trip to Israel. It was an uncharacteristically spiritual journey for me.

![einsatzgruppe execution](/assets/2022-07-31/einsatzgruppen-small.jpg){: .center-image }

I was agnostic as a child. But this didn't get in the way of my Jewish self-definition. Early on, I heard stories from my grandpa about his grandma's execution by the Einsatzgruppen. In my ancestor's deaths was a conviction for my own identity.

My group visited [Yad Vashem](https://www.yadvashem.org/) a few days into the trip. I didn't expect to learn anything new. I kept quiet. I braced for a heavy day.

Of all the exhibits there, one spoke to me most loudly. Maybe because it was in Russian. It was just a simple poem excerpt, describing a swamp called <NAME>.

> Над <NAME>ом шелест диких трав.
>
> Деревья смотрят грозно,
> 
> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;по-судейски.
>
> Всё молча здесь кричит.

Translated,

> Over Babi Yar wild grasses rustle.
>
> Trees look sternly, as if in judgment.
>
> Everything here screams silently.

A picture of the valley echoes the poem, by <NAME>.

![babi yar](/assets/2022-07-31/babi-yar.jpg){: .center-image }

Here the entire Jewish population of Kiev was massacred; some whose names might never be known. Only their screams are captured silently in the grass which remains.

Retelling my experience to my grandpa, he informed me that I had Ukrainian branches of family who were there too. My grandmother told me their story. This was news to me. Yad Vashem curators make a point to separate the number 6 million piece by painful piece. With light editing, I present the story below.

# My Great-Grandfather

_By <NAME>._<commit_msg>Minor edits to <NAME><commit_after>---
layout: post
title:  <NAME>
date:   2022-07-31
categories: tools
featured_image: /assets/2022-07-31/star-of-david.png
meta_keywords: Holocaust, family
---
This post is not like my usual posts.

Over the last two weeks, I went on a [Birthright](https://www.birthrightisrael.com/) trip to Israel. It was an uncharacteristically spiritual journey for me.

![einsatzgruppe execution](/assets/2022-07-31/einsatzgruppen-small.jpg){: .center-image }

I was agnostic as a child. But this didn't get in the way of my Jewish self-definition. Early on, I heard stories from my grandpa about his grandma's execution by the Einsatzgruppen. In my ancestor's deaths was a conviction for my own identity.

My group visited [Yad Vashem](https://www.yadvashem.org/) a few days into the trip. I didn't expect to learn anything new. I kept quiet. I braced for a heavy day.

Of all the exhibits there, one spoke to me most loudly. Maybe because it was in Russian. It was just a simple poem excerpt, describing a swamp called Babi Yar.

> Над Бабьим Яром шелест диких трав.
>
> Деревья смотрят грозно,
> 
> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;по-судейски.
>
> Всё молча здесь кричит.

Translated,

> Over Babi Yar wild grasses rustle.
>
> Trees look sternly, as if in judgment.
>
> Everything here screams silently.

A picture of the valley echoes the poem, by <NAME>.

![babi yar](/assets/2022-07-31/babi-yar.jpg){: .center-image }

Here the entire Jewish population of Kiev was massacred; some whose names might never be known. Only their screams are captured silently in the grass which remains. With the current war it's deeply saddening even the [greenery has no rest](https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2022/03/01/ukraine-russia-babyn-yar/).

Retelling my experience to my grandpa, he informed me that I had Ukrainian branches of family who were there, too. My grandmother told me their story. This was news to me. Yad Vashem curators make a point to separate the number 6 million piece by painful piece. With light editing, I present her words below.

# My Great-Grandfather

_By Alla Voloshina._
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