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Brisko: A True Tale of Surival
Part I: Pogrom in Tuchin
1. Buried Alive
I woke up a few times before I could stay awake.
“Libe! Libe!” It was my father’s voice.
“Here I am,” I said.
I felt something hard under my head. I couldn’t tell where I was.
“Libe!” My father shouted at me.
“I’m here!” I said.
The right side of my body felt a little numb. I tried to move my arm, but it
would not budge. That frightened me. I went to sit up, but that didn’t work either.
I blinked.
“Libe!” My father continued to shout.
“Here I am!” I shouted. Then I realized that no sound came from my
mouth. The shouting was in my head. I could make no sound, and my father
could not hear me.
“Come, Isaak.” It was my Uncle Fridal talking to my father. “She is gone.”
No! I tried to say, but still no sound would come. I’m not dead!
They threw a sheet over my body and walked away. In my heart I felt
more terror than I ever had.
They’re going to bury me alive, I thought. I’m seven years old, and they’re
going to bury me alive.
SPW
Brisko: A True Tale of Survival
Steven Paul Winkelstein
I slept and woke several times. When I woke again, there was something
heavy on my face. Soon I would be six feet under the ground, and there was
nothing I could do about it, no matter how much I shouted. They would put me in
the Tuchin graveyard. Only I would hear my final cries. The idea haunted me.
I knew what the heavy thing on my face was. It was a bible—it meant that
I was dead. They had covered my face for the time being because they believed
I was dead. Soon they would take me out of the house and put me in the
ground.
I tried to scream again. Nothing. I wanted very much to weep. Only seven
years old and buried alive. But I’m already getting ahead of myself. Let me tell
you how it started.