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Searching for the crack in the wall

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This is the info I've gathered about the Pabianice ghetto, whittled down from a couple of different Holocaust history pages.  The Kruschender Stadium on Zamkowa Street had 5 hectares, on which a football pitch and athletics competitions were arranged. Tennis players played on two courts. In the club premises on Pierackiego Street, you could play chess, checkers, and billiards. https://www.zyciepabianic.pl/informacje/historia/gdy-tur-walczyl-z-burza.html After the German army entered the city on September 8, 1939, persecution of the Jewish community began. Here, as throughout the Łódź Voivodeship, Jews were forced to wear armbands with the star of David and the word "Jude" on them. A curfew was also introduced, which allowed Jews to travel within the city only between 8:00-17:00, though they were forbidden from moving or leaving the city. They were also forbidden from using the sidewalks, and had to walk in the street. They had to nod in greeting to each German they met on...
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heaven and the earth behave as if they're no longer friends at all

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         "Only lovers will survive."          That was the pop song mantra that I'd launched myself on this journey with. I'm on some kind of spiritual odyssey , I told myself and others. Or a midlife crisis. Either way what had I to lose? The long-term relationship I'd been in had come to an end the year before and I was unattached in any traditional sense, although my work as a home care aide had a deep level of attachment with my clients. It was difficult to leave them behind for a couple weeks, but arrangements had been made to properly cover their care needs.            Whatever the case was, I was due for a getaway. I was turning 40 at the end of the year and had never left the American continent. I felt a need to rectify that and begin a new chapter. I may have also had an enormous crush on a Ukrainian superstar that was a large motivating factor...          My...
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Only Lovers Will Survive

I. For love and for sorrow Two years ago the world was in turmoil. We had just emerged from COVID restrictions and begun to adjust to the new-normal. I'd been selling and spinning records at the local consignment shop between caregiving shifts, and working on exploring my family tree in my downtime at home. Right about the time I'd traced my father’s father’s father’s family to a village in today's western Ukraine (due west of Odessa, south of Chisinau), Russia invaded that country. Needless to say, this hit home closer than it would have if I hadn't just discovered those roots. My tendency to want to obsessively absorb things was then kicked into high gear towards Ukrainian culture when I picked up a Soviet-era “Ukrainian folk choir” record and fell in love with the melody of the first song, an old Christmas carol. This led me to the singer Tina Karol and her bopping rendition of the same tune, and deep down the rabbit hole of the post-Soviet Ukrainian music scene. As...
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