Grigory was 19 when he went to war. Far from home, amidst the chaos of battle, he received a letter—unthinkable devastation! His parents and 13-year-old sister were gone. Murdered by the Nazis. They had occupied Rostov, marching thousands of Jews to Zmievskaya Balka, erasing their existence just for being Jewish.
Meanwhile, in Lithuania, Leah ran through the Kaunas ghetto, searching for her family—unknowingly running toward death. Someone pulled her back. That moment saved her, but she never saw her family again. Leah, fluent in many languages, joined the Red Army as an interpreter. That’s where she met Grigory—two shattered souls who refused to break.
They married. They built a life. They returned to the very city that had tried to erase them. Their daughter, Maya, grew up never knowing her grandparents. But she carried their story. She chose to become a history teacher, so she could take students to the site where her grandparents were murdered. She made sure they knew. Because silence is how history disappears. And some stories must be told forever.
Source: Chaim Danzinger
