An unflagging hunt through the darkest period of Jewish history yields treasure for a passionate researcher.
"For my entire life, having grown up in a household where the Holocaust was everything and nothing, hugely impactful but rarely discussed, I had my own questions about what had happened to our relatives,” writes activist and ambassador Frank. “In fact, it nearly obsessed me, coloring my entire worldview." Then, in 1996, when she was a young mother, her Aunt Mollie showed her a slim book. Among its biographies of Yiddish actors murdered by the Nazis in Vilna, Lithuania, in 1941 and 1942 was a section on perhaps the most fascinating of those lost relatives, a talented and courageous actor named Franya Winter. This book will be yours, her aunt told her, but do not read it. For years, Frank obeyed. In 2002, when she took her children and her 85-year-old mother to Vilna to see what they could discover about their family's past, her course toward enlightenment was set. Any memoir of genealogical research tends to be a story of frustrating dead ends, amazing coincidences, mistaken identities, mysteries within mysteries, and moments of illumination—sometimes more than someone without a personal stake can fully appreciate or keep straight. That happens only rarely here; more notable is the way the horror of the Holocaust ups the ante on every discovery. Nothing stopped Frank as she traveled back and forth to Europe and later Canada, peeling back the veil and ending the silence on mass killings, brutal betrayals, and foiled escapes as well as bright flickers of courage and rebellion. She sifted through records across four continents, partnering with archivists and translators. After the mystery of Franya was solved, new parts of the story emerged to yield unexpected satisfaction. Frank's attitude and rigorous self-reflection will be a beacon to the many people profoundly affected by generational trauma.
An unflinching project that succeeds as a small victory against the erasure of the Holocaust.