One of these people was Alma Kalniņa. Her grave marker is in the town cemetery of Jēkabpils. She was 34 years old. She is buried alongside five others who were also murdered by the [...]]]> When the Soviets invaded Latvia during the Second World War, they deported and/or murdered thousands of people from all walks of life.

One of these people was Alma Kalniņa. Her grave marker is in the town cemetery of Jēkabpils. She was 34 years old. She is buried alongside five others who were also murdered by the Soviets on June 27, 1941 – Jānis Strautiņš, Mārtiņš Rugājs, Mārtiņš Kazerovskis, Jānis Kudrašs and Valdemārs Arkliņš.

I have chosen Alma’s grave marker because she is the one that my family has a connection to. She was the secretary for my great-grandfather Augusts Lūkins, a local judge. Family stories tell me that she had been shot and tied up with barbed wire. Her body was found in a swamp.

This was not my family’s only experience of Soviet brutality. One of my great-grandfathers, Arvīds Francis, was also murdered by the Soviets. I will tell his story in a later edition of “Bringing Out the Great-Grandfathers”. Many other family members also disappeared, and are probably buried in unmarked graves somewhere in Russia.

To me, this grave marker represents more than one woman, but all of the lost family members of mine who have no grave markers of their own.

This is the memorial stone at the “Cemetery of Non-Existent Cemeteries” – a memorial built to commemorate all of the destroyed cemeteries in Gdansk, and the [...]]]> Another slightly unusual “Tombstone Tuesday”. Today I’m deviating somewhat from the “Latvian” part of this blog, because what I came across here while visiting Gdansk, Poland, really spoke to me.

This is the memorial stone at the “Cemetery of Non-Existent Cemeteries” – a memorial built to commemorate all of the destroyed cemeteries in Gdansk, and the people who may have died without having their burial places marked at all. Click on the photo to enlarge it.

Now, I don’t speak Polish, and Google Translate can be a bit dodgy, so maybe one of my Polish readers can translate what it says on the four sides of it? (only one side is visible in the above photograph) I also don’t know which side has the beginning of the phrase.

• “…TYM CO IMION NIE MAJA”

• “NA GROBIE”
• “A TYLKO BÓG WIE, JAK KTO”
• “SIĘ ZOWIE…”

Thank you for your translations!

I am currently in Copenhagen, Denmark, and one of my main reasons for coming here was to visit this memorial (click on the image to view a larger one):

It is the memorial to Latvians who died in exile in Denmark [...]]]> My “Tombstone Tuesday” submission isn’t the tombstone for one person, but rather, a memorial to many.

I am currently in Copenhagen, Denmark, and one of my main reasons for coming here was to visit this memorial (click on the image to view a larger one):

It is the memorial to Latvians who died in exile in Denmark after the Second World War. My maternal grandparents were among the Latvian DPs (Displaced Persons) who lived in Denmark during this time, before going to Canada in the late 1940s. I have a photograph taken of the memorial (found in Vestre Cemetery) by one of my grandparents shortly after it was erected, and yesterday I was able to visit it myself, and take the above photo, sixty years later.

Translated to English (in spirit, not word for word), the top inscription reads: “I rest my head on the dreams of my homeland.” The bottom inscription: “For our countrymen who died during the time of exile in Denmark – Latvian Displaced Persons, 1948″. The blocks in front of the memorial, as well as on either side it, list the names of these Latvians.

It has been difficult to find any information on Latvian DPs in Denmark, since most information about Latvian DPs talks exclusively about the DP camps in Germany. This is why it was so important for me to visit this memorial myself: It is a powerful reminder saying “We were here. Do not forget us.”