My dad was a nuclear physicist. He also wrote poetry up until he passed away in 2001.
My dad was a nuclear physicist. He also wrote poetry up until he passed away in 2001.
So we started our life here with furniture from the garbage, but we had pots and pans, fine china, and every imaginable kitchen utensil!
These pots! Imagine, having to haul these heavy pots with us on the plane!
It reminds me of the weekends I spent with my grandparents in their Moscow apartment and how we’d have tea from it every morning.
Really, we are a new generation of immigrants. The earlier waves are the true immigrants. They knew they were never going back.
She had a very big family with ten siblings, and most of them were buried alive during the war.