If you would like to know more about my adventures in eastern Europe, you might wish to read my book, They Must Be Living Somewhere which is available from Virtualbookworm.com Publishing or Amazon. The book focuses on the question of our obligations to our fellow man in a narrative framework that combines amusing anecdotes about the vagaries of travel in eastern Europe with serious observations about the Holocaust and its aftermath.  The title is derived from the following incident:

One day we stopped in a small town in Ukraine to look for a cemetery. We did not know where it was located, so we asked an elderly lady if she could help us. She turned out to be quite talkative. She told us about her Jewish schoolmates and about a Jewish man who had emigrated to Israel, presumably before the Shoah. Then, in reference to the Jews who formerly lived in her town, she observed that “they must be living somewhere” as though they had simply moved or perhaps gone to Israel like the one man of whom she knew. In a five-minute conversation, she used the phrase “they must be living somewhere” three times. All of us standing there talking knew that the Jews of her town were not living anywhere else. We knew they had been murdered in the Shoah. So what are we to make of the lady’s observation that the Jews must be living somewhere?