It may be because one feels that one has something to share; a story, knowledge, history, or perhaps a tale that has been trapped within one’s soul and now needs to be set free in the form of a book, to be received by others and critiqued.
Writing can be cathartic for the author; a sense of exploration, explanation, searching for life’s meaning, God’s presence, or the intertwining of various relationships. In my case, after discovering old documents, letters, and personal writings, and pictures of my father’s, I decided to write a book – to pass his history on to others, and to honor the strength and courage that one man exhibited as he grew up in southern rural Russia, and had many life’s experiences and incidents where he could have been killed. And yet, he survived, and finally fled to a new life in a new land, carrying memories of his turbulent past, yet determined to begin anew and complete his “life’s loop”.
I viewed my father as just “my dad”, and regret that I really was never aware of all the turmoil and horror that he had survived. If he had talked about his past, could I have, in any way, eased his pain? Probably not, as he was not inclined to express his feelings or welcome questions about his life in Russia. So how to piece together this puzzle of his life’s journey? I decided to begin by taking all of his handwritten memoirs and other English documents, transferring them onto my computer, and then hunt for someone who might be able to translate the Russian and French documents into English. Doing this took me several months, and turned out to be a very unexpected and emotional experience for me. As I read through the material I became mesmerized by the story I was reading, and that it was, indeed, my own father that I was reading about – his childhood, schooling, hardships and horrific experiences that caused him both physical and emotional pain throughout his life. Often while reading, I would feel overcome by sadness and grief. I would have to take a break, perhaps sitting reflectively with a glass of wine, or I would take a walk on the beach to gaze at the sea and think about what his journey might have been like as he sailed across the Atlantic Ocean in the cold month of December. I felt so much sorrow for this courageous person who never knew his parents and who was brought up by his grandparents and aunt and uncle. The “Parcae” had woven his life’s loop and tapestry at birth and his path lay before him – not to become a farmer, but rather after proper schooling, to become a mechanical engineer creating new machines and other interesting projects. His family were well-to-do peasants and were the elders in his town. However, with the start of the Russian Revolution, his loop developed a “knot” and his path took an unexpected turn.
My father was plagued with nightmares throughout his life. He writes his memoirs to try to free himself from his “demons”. We all have dreams that from time to time haunt our souls, and yet, had my father not written down his thoughts and feelings, I would never have come to know him to the degree that I feel I do now.
After my grandson, Matthew, asked my husband to write to him and tell him what he knew of his great-grandfather, Gregory, so that he could write a class paper, I realized that there was a greater story here that needed to be told – a young man growing up in rural Russia, his schooling and military experiences, as he witnessed the beginning of the Russian Revolution, his escape from his motherland across The Black Sea and Atlantic Ocean to emigrate to a new country with freedom, a new language and culture to learn, and new expectations.
After many calls and searching, I was put in touch with a gentleman who might indeed be able to translate all my Russian documents and other papers. I met with him and blessedly, he agreed to “take a look”. John Weeks was a teacher of Russian studies and literature. He did a marvelous job of translating everything and then went a step further by sharing history, and some interesting tidbits that he discovered like names, a video of Grisha’s town, pictures, Youtube information and other fascinating facts surrounding my father’s life. His work has been invaluable to me and we exchanged many ideas and information as the book evolved. I will be forever grateful for his interest and guidance.
The discovery of my father’s original writings, documents, and pictures has enabled me to share with others a bit about one man’s struggles – his life, his courage, his “loop of fate” as determined by the Russian Parcae at his birth, and how that loop has intertwined with my loop, perhaps forming an invisible chain that perhaps in some spiritual way, connects us all to each other.
Through his own writings, he reveals himself and what he saw as he witnessed history in the making. I know that I can never unlock all the secrets of Grisha’s life and must now be content with what I have come to know – and what is.
My father often talked about the immense power of the sea, and how we must always respect its natural power and tumultuousness, while also enjoying its calmer days of gently rolling waves, its deep blue color and blue skies above. He spoke of using the stars to sail in the right direction, and he would point out to my brother and me different constellations as we glazed at the clear brilliant tapestry of stars shining over the ocean and beach on a clear night. I sometimes wonder now when I walk the beach in a bitterly cold winter wind, what it might have been like to be sailing on the S.S. Braga crossing the Atlantic Ocean to an unknown shore and arriving in New York in the beginning of winter in December 1922. I’m sure he must have experienced adventures at sea, and how I wish that he had recorded his journey and that I could hear him tell “his tales”.
I have written this book during the three years that my husband of nearly 55 years was diagnosed and dying of pancreatic/liver cancer. As I cared for him and watched him slipping gradually from this world into his next journey, I would often write at night and try, myself, to slip into the world of my Russian father, drawing strength from the stories of what he had to endure, and trying to accept each day as it passed, knowing that our time together was now limited and our personal loops, although intertwined, would not be as intimate. How Matthew’s request and Phil’s letter back to him, sparked my desire to delve into my father’s past and come to know him better. What a gift I uncovered, reinforcing my deepest feelings that we are all interconnected and, therefore, are “our brother’s keeper”. A new set of emotions now resonates within me. In grieving the loss of my husband, a whole new set of feelings assail me, and I realize that pain is part of life, and I must work through it alone, until I come to the end of my personal journey and hopefully experience that wonderful, undefinable peace.
With father’s death and my brother’s and my own, the Samoylenko direct ancestor line ends. Although my children and grandchildren carry snippets of this history and heritage in them, I wanted to record it now to honor and cherish. And so this story ends. I hope it has been somewhat insightful and educational for others, and that it shows how one ordinary man followed his dream with integrity and courage to start a new life in a new country, and hopefully, at the end attain peace of mind and soul.
I am so grateful to my editors and the many others whose insights and good judgment helped to shape this book and bring it to its satisfying conclusion. Their faith and support have been invaluable and deeply appreciated by me.
