8 | JANUARY 12 • 2023 

A

s Jews around the 
world celebrated 
and observed the 
miraculous Festival of Lights 
last month, my family found 
ourselves in a period of 
mourning. 
 Days before Chanukah, 
my 88-year-old Holocaust-
surviving uncle Jack Gun 
passed away peacefully in his 
sleep. He lived a long life. A 
remarkable life. A life where 
he bore witness to such 
atrocities and horrors that 
there are actually groups of 
people today who deny this 
period of history could have 
ever happened. 
 Call it sick. Call it 
deranged. Call it twisted. 
 Call it what it is. Call it 
antisemitism. Because it is. 
 Forced from their home in 
Poland, my grandfather (my 
hero) was an 18-year-old boy, 
suddenly solely responsible 
for his 8-year-old brother 
(my uncle) during the war. 
They were split from their 
parents and sister — two boys 
on the run. They hid between 
tall haystacks on a farm 
during summers, afraid to 
make a move, itch or sound 
— fearful to be discovered by 
Nazis. 
 They hid in wooded forests 
and between tree branches 
during the fall. At one 
point, a heroic non-Jewish 
farmer dug them a hole in 
the ground, deep enough to 
hide in for a period of four 
months during winter. They 
were two boys in hiding and 
fighting for their lives. 

 Hidden children of 
the Holocaust — a most 
incredible and admirable 
club that no one ever asked 
to join — yet a unique, 
brave bond of brotherhood 
and sisterhood among these 
heroic Jewish souls. 
 They hid, they fought, they 
survived. 
 They survived for us. For 
my mom and her siblings. 
For my sisters and for my 
cousins. For my daughters 
and their cousins. And 
eventually for all of their 
children, too. 
 My uncle and my 
grandparents survived so 
we could live in a country 
like America with religious 
freedom. 
 So, as we are accustomed 
to celebrating Chanukah 
and lighting candles, I can’t 
help but feel like our family’s 
menorah has lost a bit of its 
spark. 
 Yet I know the holiday 
candles will shine bright year 
after year and for generations 
to come if we all vow to never 
forget. 
 “Never be a bystander,” my 
Uncle Jack taught us, and he 

reiterated that phrase over 
and over. Never forget the 
courage of Jack Gun and my 
grandparents, Manya and 
Anszel Gun, and millions 
of others. Never forget their 
stories. Never forget their 
bravery or fear. Never forget 
their pictures. Never forget 
the families behind the faces 
in those pictures. Never 
forget. 
 We must promise to 
continue connecting and 
educating others … and we 
certainly need a community 
willing and ready to listen. 
 We need partnership and 
we need allies. We need 
peace. 
 It’s this message that will 
allow us to keep lighting 
candles in honor of the brave 
generations before us. 
 We’ll light the candles with 
a promise to do our part and 
to not be bystanders. And 
we’ll light the candles as we 
retell their story, with hopes 
for a brighter future. 

Adan Miller is a member of the 

Cleveland Jewish Publication 

Company Board of Directors. This 

story was originally published in the 

Cleveland Jewish News.

essay
Keep Lights Burning for 
Holocaust Survivors

PURELY COMMENTARY

Year In Review
I am sure I am not the only 
reader who was particularly 
impressed with the Dec. 
29 issue of the Jewish News 
featuring the Year in Review 
and In Memoriam. What a 
year it was indeed. 
The range of the Jewish 
News has become consis-
tently impressive. Nearly 
every issue has included 
political commentary, 
community news, arts and 
entertainment information, 
sports coverage, recipes, 
children’s entertainment, 
and helpful directories along 
with profound essays offer-
ing spiritual enlightenment. 
And, of course, I peruse the 
obituaries. 
There are some who 
would argue that what was 
formerly a Jewish newspa-
per has become more of a 
magazine. I applaud this 
transition and look forward 
to each week’s cover story. 
Of course, it helps that our 
Detroit Jewish community is 
consistently newsworthy!

— Edie Broida

West Bloomfield

Stick Together
“Alle yidden mus tzuzamen 
schtechen.
” 
“
All Jews must stick 
together.”
As a very young child, 
during and after World War 
II, I overheard this Yiddish 
phrase spoken by my grand-
parents and older relatives. 
 Jonathan Greenblatt 
eloquently details its impor-
tance today in “In Fighting 
Antisemitism, Jews Can Be 
Our Own Worst Enemies. 
We Shouldn’t Be.” (Dec. 29, 
page 4).

— Marsha Lynn

Via the Web

letters

ADAM MILLER

Anszel Gun, Adam 
Miller and Jack Gun