The saddest and the happiest Victory Day celebration ever
Chicago area has more than its share of immigrants from Russia and other parts of the former Soviet Union those lives have, one way or another, been touched by World War II. Soviet military veterans, guerilla fighters and survivors of many stripes - Siege of Leningrad survivors, survivors of Nazi prison and/or labor camps and, of course, Holocaust survivors. As I’ve written before, Russian Jews account for a pretty significant portion of Soviet citizens those who came to this country in 1960s-1980s.
In 1992, they formed Chicago Association of World War II Veterans (Чикагскую Ассоциацию Ветеранов Второй Мировой Войны). And every May 9 - which Russia and some of the former USSR celebrates as the day World War II ended in Europe - they celebrated with their families. From what I heard, it was a relatively quiet, intimate event. But around 2008, some of the members’ families and people involved in various Russian-American community organizations thought that, hey, they deserve better than that. So, since 2009, the Association has been working with younger volunteers to put together a three-prong event - a memorial gathering at the Skokie Public Library on May 8, the big banquet on May 9 and home visits to veterans/survivors who were too bed-ridden to make it to either of those events.
I’ve been to the Skokie Public Library gatherings, but I never bothered to try to make it to the big banquet. For one, it cost money. For another, it was all the way up in Northbrook - which isn’t, like, super far north as far as Chicagoland goes, but it’s still more a bit of a schlep.
But this year was different. Grandma Nina, a Siege of Leningrad survivor, is living in the northwest suburbs of Chicagoland now. This is literally the first time in all her life that she is celebrating Victory Day somewhere that’s not St. Petersburg. I knew I had to get her there. And, well, if there was every a reason to schlep to Northbrook, celebrating Victory Day with my grandmother is a pretty good one.
The banquet was held at Petergof banquet hall. For the many people who couldn’t drive there themselves, the organizers arranged for handicapped-accessible taxies to pick them up and then drop them back off home. (It wasn’t entirely impossible to get there by public transit from the suburb where Grandma Nina and my mom live, but it’s a long-complicated route that was going to by my option of last resort. If the pick-up was available, I was definitely going to make sure my grandma could take advantage of it.
We were seated at a table that included two veterans and a Siege of Leningrad survivor (a woman who was born on May 9, 1941 - so she was almost five months old when the Siege began. I don’t know what is more horrific - experiencing it as a six-year-old or experiencing it as a baby)
So what happened at the banquet? Well, we were fed a lot of great Russian food. I don’t know about Grandma Nina, but I ate so much that I didn’t have to eat dinner.
And there was plenty of entertainment. The singers sang some classic World War II era songs - songs about war and more peaceful songs from the same period, songs that have become immortalized though more Russian movies and TV shows than I can even begin to count.
Many couples got up and danced.
I made sure to get a clip of this particular song for my family (for everybody not familiar with this aspect of Soviet culture - the song was prominently featured in a classic Soviet WWII movie “Only ‘Old Men’ Are Going Into Battle.”)
Click to viewI was honestly amused by how several people at our table were astonished (astonished!) that I could sing along to several of those songs. “But you’re so young!” the middle-aged woman on my left said.
“I leaned them in [Russian equivalent of elementary school],” I said.
“Still!” the woman responded. “Most people your age - when they come here, they forget songs, they forget everything.”
And, at one point, one of the singers… I’m not sure if “serenade” is necessarily the right word, but she sang to and danced with one of the veterans.
At the middle of the banquet, the organizers gave a big speech recognizing all of the survivors. They read out congratutions from Ukrainian, Belarusian and Latvian embassies, as well as summarizing an honorary resolution approved by Chicago City Council (I tried to find it on the Chicago City Clerk's website, but couldn't - which doesn't mean it doesn't exist. As a Jewish man, Mayor Rahm Emanuel has always been pretty consious of the significance of the victory against Nazis, and I know he submitted honorary resolutions marking May 8 and/or May 9).
As the organizers noted, one glaring ommision was that, for the first time in the banquet history, there was nothing from the Russian embassy, or any entity affiliated with the Russian government. They obviously didn't dwell on it, but I had to wonder - has the relationship between US and Russia deteriorated so badly that they couldn't even honor veterans and survivors living abroad?
Then, the organizers asked all veterans to get up for has apparently become a tradition - a massive group photo. Grandma Nina demurred, because the organizers took pains to emphasize that it was only for veterans. But the other Siege of Leningrad survivor at our table told her “Oh, don’t worry about it, I get up all the time,” so she shrugged, told me “well, I guess I’m a veteran” and went up there.
in fairness, some of the other people weren’t veterans in the strictest sense, either. But they were survivors, and that counted.
Everybody who went up there got a bouquet of flowers.
Some got cards.
And, because I knew that my mom would want that picture… Ladies and gentlefolk of Livejournal, and those of you coming from Facebook and Twitter, allow me to introduce you to Nina Fyodorovna Soboleva. Siege of Leningrad survivor. Scientist. Committed editor. My grandmother.
After a brief break, kids performed a few songs - including some the grown-up band performed already
Note - the image below is actually a video. You used to be able to properly embed Flickr videos on LJ, but the most recent iteration of Flickr embed code doesn't agree with LJ embed code, so the only way to watch it is to click on it
Then, there was a big thank you for the Association’s governing board
And all of the volunteers.
After that, it was pretty much more food, more songs and more dancing
As I’ve written on Facebook and Twitter, it was at once the saddest and the happiest Victory Day commemoration I’ve ever been a part of. Russian commemorations don’t really touch on Holocaust as much as it should, but given the demographics of the guests, it was pretty much front and center. There were multiple Holocaust survivors sitting in the room - one of them even got up to thank the kids for their performances. And… That hit me home more then ever, because, now that most of my Jewish relatives are dead… As I’ve written on Facebook, to me, the idea of Jewishness is intrinsically tied to them. it’s Grandma Kima, it’s Grandpa Slava, it’s Grandpa Roma, it’s the family members I never got to meet, but who my mom and my other relatives remember fondly
The Siege of Leningrad was horrific, but if the Nazis actually took over the city… I’ve seen the statistics of Jewish populations in Nazi-occupied territories. All of those family members I mentioned would have been dead. And being among the people who came closer to annihilation than most other groups… Just sort of drives it home.
When one of the veterans toasted at me with “May you never experience anything like what we did” I am not ashamed to admit that I nearly cried.
And yet, it was also the happiest commemoration. Which is not the word I ever thought I would use to describe Victory Day. I’m used to it being a solemn occasion, a time of reflection. And yet… as of the hosts put it during the banquet, “today is the celebration of life.” Seeing couples dancing together, mothers dancing with their daughters, grandmothers dancing with granddaughters, I realized that they were right. Because whether they were Jewish or not, everybody who was at the banquet survived - or they existed because their mothers, fathers, grandmothers, grandfathers, great-grandmothers and great-grandfathers, survived. Even those who passed away of natural causes since the last banquet - the fact that they got to live long, full life is the ultimate fuck you to the Nazis.
The ultimate reason to rejoice - and celebrate.
And, as a grandson of a Siege of Leningrad survivor, a grandson and descenedent of Jewish men and women, I can definitely appreciate that.
/
As we headed off, the veteran from our table I mentioned above shook my hand and said
"You hold on to your grandmother now, you hear."
And he wished Grandma Nina the best
And I stayed around to make sure she got on the right cab.
Now, throughout the whole thing, I wondered if Grandma Nina liked it. I think, toward the end, she got a bit overwhelmed with all the food and the singing. But I think, overall, she enjoyed herself. And she made it very clear to me that she was impressed with the way volunteers handled everything and corralled everyone, praising their patience and attentiveness. Which, coming from Grandma Nina, is saying quite a lot
And, ultimately, I'm glad I went.
Happy belated Victory Day, Livejournal. As always, to our victory - and may the memory live on forever