ON THE COVER
“WE EACH CARRIED ONLY ONE
BAG PER FAMILY. NOTHING
MATERIALISTIC MATTERED.
WE SIMPLY HAD TO LEAVE.”
— IANA SYROTNIKOVA
continued from page 13
14 | JUNE 2 • 2022
windows, and damaged the gas
pipeline.
Six cars parked outside the
building burned down, includ-
ing ours. Our possessions were
lost. We ran outside and saw
a mess of debris — broken
windows, dents from fences
that flew into the air. Yet some-
how, everyone who lived in
our building was alive. In this
moment, we learned a valuable
lesson: to forget about material
things and appreciate every
survivor. That day, many people
died in other places that were
bombed, including 28 people
trapped in the rubble of our
regional administration.
The hell that had become
Kharkiv was no longer just
audible; it was visible.
As the day went on, more
than 10 rockets flew over our
home. We spent the remainder
of the day and the following
night in the basement of our
building. For the first time, I
truly encountered the kindness
of strangers — neighbors with
whom we had only said hello
offering us a place to sit, which
we returned the kindness of by
offering them food.
In the basement, we didn’t
have the ability to go outside,
use the restroom or contact rel-
atives. We each wore two jack-
ets, gloves, a hat and a hood.
The night seemed endless,
and the bombing didn’t stop.
To this day, I remember the
sounds and shaking walls. We
were afraid the basement wasn’t
safe enough, calculating by the
sounds of the bombings which
side of the basement the rockets
could potentially strike next.
My husband didn’t close his
eyes even once, keeping our cat
Lady in his arms all night. We
didn’t have a carrier, and she
was nervous from the sounds
of the bombing. The next day,
we learned that almost all resi-
dential buildings around us and
a school where students lived
and studied were destroyed.
Our home was no longer our
fortress.
LEARNING TO SURVIVE
We had to make an urgent deci-
sion. Many Kharkiv residents,
including my friends, were leav-
ing the city. There were massive
lines and traffic jams. Our lives
were now at risk. The problem
was, we have a large family and
there was no longer working
phone service. Miraculously,
with the help of neighbors, we
managed to contact my parents.
Together, we spent many hours
making the most terrible deci-
sion of our lives.
However, the decision wasn’t
unanimous. My husband’s
parents refused to leave. When
we said goodbye to them and
hugged them, I was afraid we’
d
never see each other again.
Because our car burned down,
they gave us theirs, leaving
them nothing to drive away
with, if needed. With my
husband and our cat, we left.
From the other end of the city,
my parents, brother’s family
and four more families of our
friends also left. We each car-
ried only one bag per family.
Nothing materialistic mattered.
We simply had to leave.
For the first time since the
start of the war, I left my home.
And for the first time in my
life, I saw completely destroyed
houses, checkpoints, a large
number of people in uniform
with machine guns, trenches,
barbed obstacles and signs to
watch out for mines. It felt like
a movie, but it was real and
terrifying. Until we left the
Kharkiv region, we continued
to hear planes and explosions.
I wondered if we would die on
TOP: En route from
Kharkiv to Dnipro.
LEFT: Family
history book from
Israel project.