Features
Return to Ukraine: searching out the Rosner family past
Introduction: Not too long ago we were contacted by former CBC Manitoba managing editor Cecil Rosner, who asked us whether we’d be interested in publishing a story about a trip he took in 2012 to visit the area in Ukraine where both his parents were born. Although it’s been 10 years since Cecil visited Ukraine, given the current situation in that country we thought it timely to get a sense of what life was like in Ukraine prior to the Russian invasion.
By CECIL ROSNER ““Oi — look at the way the schlemiel drives.”
We are bouncing along the potholed roads of Western Ukraine, heading from Lviv to my mother’s hometown of Buczacz. Our driver and guide isn’t Jewish, but that doesn’t stop him from endlessly whistling Fiddler on the Roof tunes and inserting Yiddishisms into every second phrase.
“These guys are all ganefs (thieves),” he says of the policemen we pass, as he forms his thumb and forefinger into a pistol and slowly pulls the trigger. Alex doesn’t like the speed traps the highway patrols set up, and he appreciates oncoming drivers signalling him to beware of cops just beyond the next hill. It’s an important issue for our driver, who crisscrosses Ukraine’s roads all year-long, ferrying tourists to distant towns and villages in search of their Jewish ancestors.
For Alex, who holds a history degree and is an expert at tracing genealogical roots, it’s an occupation he never dreamed he would have. But in the chaos of the Soviet Union’s collapse, when jobs were evaporating and everyone was trying to reimagine their lives, it seemed like a useful niche to pursue – especially as foreigners were finally trying to discover exactly what had happened to their relatives during the Second World War.
That’s why I’m here too, along with my wife and a cousin. Both of my parents were born in the region, and both were here when the Nazis occupied the area in 1941. In different improbable and miraculous ways, they both survived the war and emigrated to Canada. But every single other family member was shot, gassed, beaten or starved to death by the Nazis and their collaborators. We came here to see what traces of their lives remained.
It seemed logical to make our first stop the local museum, right across from the old city hall. Buczacz is little more than a village, with about 13,000 people. In the early part of the 19th century, Jews made up two-thirds of the population. While that number ebbed and flowed over the years, Jews were still in the majority when the Nazi occupation began. But that would have been difficult to discern in the museum.
In all the display cases, and in the colourful photo album that the town produces, there is no specific mention of a Jewish population. There is scarcely any reference to the Second World War, except for a notation that the town “was released from German invaders and captured by the Soviet Union.” Wouldn’t a town’s museum want to address what became of the majority of the population? What happened to thousands of farmers, shop owners, tailors, tinsmiths, doctors, lawyers and politicians? Doesn’t the mass roundup and extermination of most people in town even rate a mention?
The only hint of any Jewish presence came in the form of artifacts from the life of Shmuel Agnon, a Jewish writer born in Buczacz who won the Nobel Prize for literature. But the entire fate of the people Agnon wrote about had been erased.
Alex had little luck getting the museum’s employee to throw any light on what the town was like in the immediate pre-war period. She genuinely seemed not to know. But there were a few things I already knew.
My mother, Mina, had been born here in 1913, and her family owned a wholesale distribution company. They carbonated water and stored it in big, forty-litre copper cylinders, shipping them along with ice to shops throughout the area. When she was 25, she married my father, Michael Rosner, who came from nearby Kolomaya. In 1939, they opened a small retail store on the main town square, probably within metres of the present-day museum.
When the war broke out in September 1939, there was a reprieve. The region came under the control of the Soviets, and Jews were under no immediate threat. All that changed when Hitler marched eastward in 1941. My father was conscripted by the retreating Soviets, and my mother was trapped behind Nazi lines for the remainder of the war.
For the next three years, every member of my mother’s family – her parents, five brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles and cousins – were dragged from their hiding places, bludgeoned or shot, or sent off to be executed. They were all dumped into unmarked graves. My parents’ first-born child – my brother – also fell victim, dying at the age of three in 1942.
My mother’s survival defied any normal odds. She fled from one hiding place to another, escaping just in time to avoid capture. She spent 11 months in the attic of a Polish family along with five other Jews. She took an assumed name and boldly convinced the Nazis she was Christian. Finally, after Buczacz was liberated, she re-united with my father and they came to Canada to start anew in 1948.
I had been to Buczacz once before, with my mother, in 1990. We came with a documentary crew to record her first visit back home since the war. It was an emotional trip and a difficult one for both of us. But we learned very little of the actual events that had transpired in the town, or the exact locations where they happened. That’s why, nearly 15 years after my mother’s death, I was returning for a second time.
I convinced Alex that our best strategy on this trip would be to find older people and ask them what they knew about the 30s and 40s. Alex seemed skeptical. For one thing, the war had begun more than 70 years ago, so it was unlikely there would be any useful first-hand witnesses at hand. And there was also the collective amnesia that pertained to inconvenient truths.
After all, a segment of the population had actively collaborated with Hitler. They were instrumental in helping identify and round up the Jews, the Communists, and all the other elements the Nazis wanted to destroy. Some might still be living in Buczacz and surrounding areas. Their children and grandchildren almost certainly are here.
The museum’s employee finally gives us a sliver of hope. There is someone in town we should visit – someone who knows the history and might be able to help us. His name is Mykola.
We drive for a few minutes and stop at Mykola’s house. I am expecting to find an elderly man who may have been a teenager during the war. Instead, we come upon a 40-something man in sweatpants and a Maple Leafs T-shirt. He is clutching a handful of papers and photographs. One of them shows a photo of Buczacz’s surviving Jews standing beside a memorial gravestone in 1944. Out of the original population of 10,000, no more than 100 survived. One of the people in the photo is my mother.
Mykola has taken an interest in wartime history, and now helps visiting tourists locate family remnants. He has a variety of interesting documents, including a map of pre-war street names, and a mid-19th century register of townsfolk. It turns out that he knows about some of the Jewish families that lived in Buczacz during the war – a handful of them have returned over the years, and he has helped them find their old homes and landmarks.
We ask Mykola if he could help solve a puzzle my mother and I couldn’t figure out on our previous trip. Her family had lived on a street called Zeblickevicie, which had changed names several times after the war. From her description, though, we knew it was beside a stream that ran into the Strypa River, a subsidiary of the Dniester.
We pile into the car along with Mykola and he directs us to the location. The stream had been covered over, except at the point where it emptied into the Strypa. Though the original home was no longer there, he shows us the exact location where my mother’s family had lived. I saw the idyllic surroundings, the lush vegetation around the quiet river, and for the first time I had an inkling of the peaceful life my mother experienced before the war changed everything.
While we were all walking along the old Zeblickevicie street, Mykola bumps into a friend and exchanges a few words with him. As we walk on, the friend stops my wife, Harriet, and our cousin Nina and says: “Mina Rosner – I am a Witness.” That is the name of my mother’s book. Alex is impatient. He had rich experience of locals trying to pester visitors, and he was eager to move us all along. But Harriet and Nina persist. It turns out the man on our chance encounter knows all about my mother’s story, and offers to take us on a tour of where she lived, where she went to school, where she hid during the war, and where her family members were killed.
Over the next 24 hours, Alex grudgingly admits he was wrong. Our serendipitous encounter has linked us up with Jura, a 60-year-old retired computer technician, astrologist and local historian. He knows my mother’s exact birthdate, and, it appears, everyone else’s in town. He has a photocopied version of my mother’s book, and he has pieced together her recollections with precise locations of many of the events she describes. If photographic memories actually exist, we figure he has one. He is a visiting tourist’s dream come true, and Alex has to take a back seat while Jura takes us on a remarkable tour of my mother’s life.
The first stop is just around the corner, on a street that used to be called Chechego Maya. I remember it from my mother’s stories, but we could never pinpoint it on our previous trip. Jura shows us the building where my mother’s sister and her husband ran a hardware shop. He knows the address because it’s listed in trade publications of the era. Though my mother’s original house and her parents’ store no longer existed, I finally had an authentic touchstone of some of her family’s life at the time.
Jura takes us to the pre-war building on Kolejowa Street that served as the cheder, the religious school, where Jewish kids studied. We visit the girls’ school and middle school where my mother was a student, and walk into Buczacz’s Sokol theatre, where she watched dramatic performances and movies as a teenager. A group of children is rehearsing a musical concert on stage, and I can imagine my mother sitting in the auditorium with her brothers and sisters and friends.
Just down the road, near an orchard, Jura shows us the garden of a long-ago demolished home where my mother hid during one of the Nazi aktions, or periodic killing sprees. A bunker had been constructed in the cellar, and this helped shield her and other Jews from capture. The Nazis conducted four major aktions during their occupation of Buczacz before declaring the town Judenrein, or completely free of Jews. But the declaration turned out to be false. My mother, along with dozens of others, managed to survive with the aid of courageous gentile families who risked their safety to shelter them.
In the middle of our travels, Jura pulls out a sheet of typewritten names – people who had served as policemen, gendarmes and SS officers during the war. I recognize some of the names. Some of the Nazi war criminals and their collaborators have been brought to justice, but the vast majority remain undetected and untried for their crimes.
We go to the Jewish cemetery, where many of the town’s Jews – including my mother’s parents – were taken to be executed. The place is untended and overgrown, a jumble of brush and junk, with headstones in various states of disrepair. We find my great-grandmother’s grave. It’s significant, because two plots over my mother buried her first-born child, Isaac, in an unmarked plot. I clear away the branches and debris from the group of headstones in the area to get a better view. I bend down and touch the ground where the brother I never met is buried. Exactly 70 years later, someone has come back to this place to remember.
Jura takes me down a path through brambles to a spot where survivors had erected a memorial to the war’s victims. The place is overgrown with trees and bushes now, but he says there was nothing here before the war. The marker no longer survives, and even if it did, it’s unlikely anyone would be able to find it without an expert guide.
Our next stop is Fedor Hill, another killing ground where thousands perished. It’s difficult to see traces of anything here, but Jura once again guides us to a marker commemorating the killing of 450 people during the early days of slaughter in 1941. It had been erected by a survivor’s family well after the war.
A far more prominent memorial on Fedor Hill is dedicated to the UPA, the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, the military wing of a movement that initially collaborated with the Nazis in hopes of winning an independent homeland. In fact, throughout our travels in Western Ukraine, there were numerous new memorials to Ukrainian nationalist fighters in places where it might have been logical to place markers noting the victims of the Nazi era. We saw this on the side of a synagogue in Ivano-Frankivsk, near the Jewish ghetto entrance in Lvov, and many other places. In my father’s hometown of Kolomyia, it was a similar story — no mention of Jews or Nazi victims in the local museum, no remnants of the huge Jewish population, and a patriotic memorial to Ukrainian nationalist figures on the site of a former synagogue. In the re-written history of today, the UPA and its related Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists are presented as groups that fought both Soviets and Nazis; no mention is made of the collaboration in 1941 that led to so much destruction during the war.
Throughout our trip to Ukraine, we were reminded of the upcoming election campaign and the ever-present imagery of Ukrainian nationalism, especially in the Western part of the country. In a land that was exercising its brand of democratic activity, we had to wonder how thoroughly the country had come to grips with its recent history. Many countries are wrestling with related questions, trying to reconcile horrendous events of the past with a way forward. But as in any process or truth and reconciliation, there needs to be an initial recognition of what took place. Erasing and denying the past is rarely the path to building a healthy future.
At the end of our tour in Buczacz, Jura wanted to know the exact date of my mother’s death. He also was interested in our birthdates and any other information he could glean from us. In a country that chooses to forget so much, he was something of an anomaly.
Features
Every Rick Owens Sneaker You Should Know: A Complete Ranking
I’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about Rick Owens sneakers. Comparing soles in browser tabs at 2 AM, reading forum debates about leather quality across seasons. But it’s turned me into the person friends text when they want to know which pair to buy first — so at least it’s a useful obsession.
The thing about Rick Owens eu clothing is that sneakers are secretly the gateway. People see the draped jackets on the runway and assume that’s where Rick starts. For most of us, it starts with a pair of shoes that looked unlike anything else on the shelf. Here’s my ranking of every major silhouette.
Ramones: The Gateway That Started It All
If Rick Owens sneakers have a mascot, it’s the Ramones. Named after the punk band — these are Rick’s take on the classic high-top. Chunky rubber sole, waxed cotton laces, a toe cap that sits more forward than a typical Converse shape. The most recognizable silhouette in the entire lineup.
I recommend these as a first purchase to everyone. Easiest to style, most forgiving in proportion, and they age beautifully. Mainline leather runs $700–900. DRKSHDW canvas sits closer to $400–500 and works just as well daily.
Geobaskets: The Statement Maker
Take the Ramones, crank the volume up, and you get Geobaskets. Higher shaft, thicker sole, more visual weight. The proportions are deliberately aggressive — they look like they belong in a sci-fi film, and that’s the point.
Geobaskets are not a beginner shoe. The shaft height changes how your pants sit. They demand confidence. But if you’ve already got a couple of pieces from the Rick Owens collection and want to commit harder — this is the move. Leather pairs run $1,000+ and they’re worth it to the right person.
Abstract: The Low-Top That Actually Works
Rick’s low-top game was uneven until the Abstracts landed. These take the Ramones DNA — the sole shape, the toe box — and drop it to ankle height. Clean, sharp, unexpectedly versatile. I wear mine with cropped trousers in summer and they look as intentional as any designer shoe I own.
The Abstract solved a real problem: what do you wear when it’s too hot for Geobaskets but you still want that Rick silhouette? This. Browse the EU store during warmer months and you’ll see these sell fast.
Megalaced Runner: Where Rick Meets Athletic
When Rick started putting out runner-style sneakers, purists lost their minds. But the Megalaced Runner works because it doesn’t pretend to be a performance shoe. It takes the runner shape and twists it — exaggerated sole, dramatic lacing, materials that belong on a runway, not a track. The pick for someone who lives in sneakers but wants to graduate beyond Nike into something with more design weight.
Fogachine: The Platform Statement
The Fogachine is for people who’ve seen every other Rick sneaker and thought — “not enough.” The stacked platform sole is massive, borderline architectural. Closer to wearable sculpture than traditional footwear. I’ve tried them on and they’re surprisingly comfortable, but they require a very specific wardrobe commitment. If your closet is already deep into Rick Owens, they’re a natural endpoint.
Sizing and Mainline vs DRKSHDW
Rick Owens sneakers run about a full size large. A US 10 in Nike translates to roughly a 43 in Rick, maybe 42 depending on the model. Ramones and Geobaskets are the most generous. If you’re ordering from the official Rick Owens EU site, their size charts are reliable.
Every model comes in two tiers. Mainline is premium leather, made in Italy. DRKSHDW is the diffusion line — canvas, waxed cotton, denim — same silhouette, roughly half the cost. What nobody tells beginners: DRKSHDW is not a downgrade. Canvas Ramones develop a worn-in character that leather doesn’t replicate. If you shop Rick Owens online and see DRKSHDW — you’re not settling, you’re choosing.
Which One Should You Buy First?
Ramones. Always Ramones. DRKSHDW to start smart, mainline leather to start with a grail. Every other model builds on what the Ramones established. Once you own a pair, everything else in the Rick Owens EU clothing catalog makes more sense.
After that, the path is personal. Geobaskets for drama. Abstracts for warm weather. Megalaced Runners if you live in sneakers. Fogachines if you want to tower. Once you put on your first pair, regular sneakers start looking flat — that’s what twenty years of perfecting a sole shape does.
Features
Big Numbers, Small Print: Why Simpler Promotions Often Deliver More
Few things catch the eye more than a giant red sign advertising a 50% discount on a popular product. Just seeing it makes shoppers feel they’ve struck gold. However, experienced shoppers aren’t easily convinced, having seen many impressive offers shrink to next to nothing by the time they reach the checkout. The headline-grabbing number is rarely the full story.
Most of the gap between the advertised saving and the one found at the till comes down to the small print. Conditions, thresholds and expiry dates can all chip away at the discount. That’s why a modest promotion can sometimes offer better value for money, even if it doesn’t look as appealing on the poster.
Why Bigger Doesn’t Always Mean Better
Large discounts, cashback promises and bonus rewards are expressly designed to stand out. They are bright, bold and hard to ignore. Still, the advertised value doesn’t always translate into the same real-world benefit. A promotion is only worth what the customer can use, and the conditions behind it, not the headline figure, determine that.
Imagine two clothing stores on the same floor of a mall. One is offering a 30% discount on purchases over $200. The other offers 10% off everything with no underlying conditions. A shopper looking for a $60 pair of jeans will get a guaranteed $6 off at the second store, and nothing at the first. In this case, the smaller offer gives the customer greater value.
This doesn’t mean a smaller promotion is always best. A person spending $300 in a shop will get the better savings at the first store. When studying competing offers, the real question is which deal best fits the customer’s spending intent in that moment.
The Fine Print Behind Everyday Offers
Conditions are a part of modern-day promotions. Common conditions include minimum spending levels, limits on qualifying products and specific redemption windows. Others tie rewards to loyalty program membership or require extra steps before the reward unlocks.
Reward schemes are a clear example. A coffee chain might award loyalty points for every order, which customers can redeem for a free coffee on a future visit. A grocery store might add store credit onto a shopper’s loyalty card but tie it to a 30-day validity period. Both offers hold genuine value, but only if customers return.
Neither offer is unreasonable, as businesses need to manage costs while encouraging customers to return. But sometimes, having the extra condition makes customers pause and question what an offer is really worth.
Where Simpler Rewards Pull Ahead
When a promotion has few conditions, it holds an advantage over others because it is easy to understand. A straightforward discount or a free item with no extra steps before redemption leaves little room for confusion. Shoppers know what they are getting, and the reward’s value is clear.
This differs from an offer that requires shoppers to make two separate purchases, complete a mail-in form and then wait six weeks for a rebate cheque. The rebate reward might be bigger, but many people never get far enough to claim it because the steps are too confusing or too long-winded. When the offer isn’t claimed, the advertised value means nothing.
The same distinction is visible across digital entertainment. An online casino offering free spins, for example, often includes clauses such as wagering requirements. This means that any winnings that come from these free spins can only be withdrawn once their total value has been bet through a set number of times. Yet some casinos understand that an offer with no wagering requirements is a good promotion that carries real weight among players.
Even so, these promotions are often not free of all conditions. Many casino offers are restricted by caps on winnings, short validity periods and a limit on which games can be played.
Same Principle, Different Industries
Travel companies also follow a similar promotional pattern. A cheap city break in Vancouver or a discounted cottage stay may appear only on certain dates or may include a non-refundable clause. Blackout periods are also common, meaning the discount can’t be used during busy times.
Subscription services often go down a slightly different route, with a low introductory price that increases after a few months. Many tie the reduced price to contract length, meaning a longer contract comes with a lower introductory price. Bundling services is another way to reduce prices. However, the value only exists when the customer actually uses all of the services they buy.
Video games work similarly, with in-game currency and other bonuses available to players in exchange for a set number of daily logins or for completing certain challenges within the game. While the industries vary, the underlying concept remains consistent. Rewards are available, but the value depends on what the customer needs to do to get them.
Why Businesses Build Complicated Offers
Consumers often blame companies and come to the belief that promotions are designed to trip shoppers up. However, the truth is more practical.
Promotions also need to benefit the business. Minimum spend thresholds and loyalty point accrual encourage customers to fill their baskets before checkout or give them a reason to return. Similarly, limited-time offers prompt immediate action by creating a sense of urgency. These are normal marketing tactics, and when implemented correctly, they deliver real benefits to both parties.
When a program is well designed, customers can earn consistent rewards over time rather than relying on a large upfront discount. If the business can balance its offers with clear explanations of the conditions behind them, customers are far less likely to be caught out.
How to Weigh Up an Offer Beyond the Headline
A simple way to judge a promotion’s value is to ask a few basic questions. What is the advertised saving or reward? Does it have any additional spending requirements to unlock? Are there any time limits for claiming the reward? And does the shopper meet the eligibility requirements in the first place?
Then it’s important to look at what the offer actually is and whether it is something that will be used. An offer that pushes a customer to buy something they never normally buy doesn’t really represent a saving.
An offer on a music streaming service is only useful for someone who listens to music. For someone who doesn’t even listen to music, the deal has no value, even at a reduced cost.
Reading Past the Headline
Big discounts and rewards can be highly beneficial, but only when customers understand the difference between the advertised value and what they’ll actually receive. A 30% discount that goes unused is worth nothing, while a 10% discount that applies to every purchase can offer real savings.
Although simple promotions tend to offer greater clarity surrounding conditions, more complex promotions can still be beneficial, provided they align with the customer’s existing plans or spending habits. However good the offer may seem, it is essential to weigh the value against the cost of obtaining it.
Features
Arabs in the coalition – yes or no?
By MARTY GREEN The Jewish People are facing a moment of decision today which will define who we are for generations to come. Should we, or should we not, form a coalition government with the Arab parties?
There was a moment in our recent history where we faced a parallel question…or, if not in our actual history, at least in the historical narrative which defines us. I am talking about Leon Uris’s masterwork, “Exodus”. I read it as a teenager, and I can’t imagine that there are many Jews my age whose worldview was not fundamentally influenced by that story.
Our protagonist, Ari Ben Canaan, grew up close to the Arab village of Abu Yesha, where he became close friends with the mukhtar‘s son, Taha. Now, twenty years later, on the eve of the War of Independence, Taha’s father is gone and the young man is now the village leader. Arab irregulars have made themselves at home in the village, and are preparing there for the coming assault on Gan Dafna. Ari goes to see his old friend to ask for cooperation. (I am paraphrasing here:)
“You said we would always be friends.”|
“Times have changed. I am an Arab.”
“You are first of all a human being.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
“If you don’t rein in the irregulars we will have to attack Abu Yesha.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“What do you expect me to do?”
The two are at an impasse. Then Taha speaks: “You said we were brothers, didn’t you? Well, if that is true, if you really meant it, then give me Jordana. Yes, give me your sister to be my wife; to bear my children…”
Ari’s fist shot out, sending Taha sprawling to a corner. He leaps up and instinctively grabs his knife and raises it towards Ari…
Now, let us pause in the telling, because I remember how I felt when I read this as a teenager. And I feel very differently when I read it today. Who was in the wrong? Was Taha in the wrong for demanding Jordana as a sign of brotherhood? Or was Ari wrong for responding with outrage?
I am all but certain that the answer to those questions is glaringly obvious to everyone who is reading here. And I am further all but certain that half of you choose Answer A and half of you choose Answer B.
Because that is exactly how the Jewish People appear to be divided on the question of whether or not to form a coaltion with the Arab parties who hold the balance of power. And the decision we make will have consequences just as far-reaching as the (fictional) decision made in the spur of the moment 80 years ago in the village of Abu Yesha.
Ari stood there dumbfounded by what he had done, unable to find the words to explain. But Taha understood perfectly well.
“Never mind”, he spoke. “You’ve told me everything I need to know. Now get out of my house, zhid!”
(It happens that the only copy of Exodus in my possession is an old samizdat version from the Soviet Union, kindly given to me many years ago by an elderly Russian immigrant. I couldn’t resist the chance to offer Taha’s final words using that particularly expressive insult from the Russian original. It also explains why my quoted passages are inexact, having passed from English to Russian and back again.)
And what is my point with all of this? It is the question of whether we should offer the Arab parties a place in the coalition government. From reading the online discussions, it is quite clear to me that we are just as divided on this question as we are on the Exodus question…should we or shouldn’t we. And each opposing side is equally vehement in the certainty that they are right.
What I can tell you for sure, is that if we make the choice which I fear, it will be just as it was between Ari and Taha. |If we manage to cobble together a coalition of parties that have nothing in common except a determination to keep 20% of our population out of the seats of power, we will have told the Arabs everything they need to know. I can only hope against hope that Eisenkot has the courage to do the right thing.
Ed. note: If you don’t remember this scene from the movie, that’s because it was only in the book.
