Radom Cemetery

In 1938, 80,000 people lived in Radom, Poland—45% were Jewish. After a ghetto was formed in March, 1941, most of those people were systematically transported to the extermination camp at Treblinka.
As in many cities and towns in Poland, the gravestones from the Jewish cemetery were removed by Nazi forces and used to pave sidewalks and streets. When my mother and I visited in 1993, some of those markers had been returned to the cemetery and stacked up in the center like a defiant wall.
The space was vast, acre after acre of weeds and wildflowers sitting motionless under a lowering sky. Images of Nazi soldiers, assigned to the desecration of the cemetery, filled my mind. I saw them fired up, cursing the Jews and urinating on the peaceful site of my grandfather’s grave.
This image is one of more than forty in my book, Sweet Noise: Love in Wartime, my parents’ poignant love story told against the backdrop of the Holocaust. Please consider supporting my Kickstarter for the book. http://kck.st/2UYTmfy


Kickstarter launch

We launched a Kickstarter campaign on September 17 that includes both books and prints as rewards. In two days we have reached 27% of our goal putting us within early striking distance of successfully funding Sweet Noise: Love in Wartime. 

Big thanks to all our supporters…please spread the word! http://kck.st/2UYTmfy 


Warsaw Jewish Cemetery

An open-air exhibit at the Jewish cemetery in Warsaw is made up of dozens of embedded photos of children killed in the Holocaust. On a wall above the photos is a poem by Henryka Łazowertówka written in 1941:
Through a hole, through a crack or a cranny
Starving yet stubborn and canny
Sneaking and speedy like a cat
I daily risk my youthful neck
And if fate will turn against me
In that game of life and bread
Do not weep for me mother; do not cry
Are we not all marked to die?
Only one worry besets me
Lying in agony; so nearly dead
Who’ll care for you tomorrow
Who’ll bring you, dear mom,
A slice of bread.