JOURNEYS Mennonite Stories of Faith and Survival in Stalins Russia, John B. Toews, 1998

Frunze but local authorities refused to register her for accomodation and so she had to return to Martuk. She was finally able to purchase a house in Frunze six years later and joined the other family mem¬ bers. Meanwhile, her long-time companion and sister-in-law Neta died of a heart attack in 1973. Now came another major relocation. Thanks to the family reunification agreement signed between the Federal Republic of Germany and the Soviet Union, emigration visas to Germany be¬ came readily available to qualified applicants. Justinas family was no exception. Her brother Abram already left in 1973. Exit visas for Justina, Sara and Justa were granted early in 1974. Unfortu¬ nately Sara died in Germany in November, 1974. Happily Heinrich, Lena and Mariechen also arrived with their families in 1974. The Reimers came in 1975. In 1979 Justina and Justa moved to Lage where they joined a Baptist Church. The Heinrich Martens lived nearby in Muessen. Here in Lage, as once in Kleefeld and Pervo-Maysk, a new generation came to listen to her stories — her grandnieces and nephews. Abram 97 I first met Abram Berg when my wife Lillian and I were on a short visit to Karaganda, Kazakhstan, during June 1990. The leading minister of one of the local Mennonite churches, Vic¬ tor Fast, informed me that “a fellow historian” desired a visit. We finally found his home amid the potholes which characterized the back lane roads of suburban Karaganda. A dignified seventy-eight- year-old gentleman greeted me at the door. Within minutes ma¬ terials related to his youth in the Molotschna settlement and his years of incarceration in the massive Karaganda concentration camp were spread out on the living room table. Our time passed quickly and I was unable to absorb the many passing references to names, dates and experiences. During our simple supper meal the pleasantness of conversa¬ tion was overshadowed by the anxious bearing of my host. Abram was not at peace though the place of his one-time exile, Karaganda, was obviously his home. The memories of another world, long since destroyed, and of years of hardship and suffering in the camps repeatedly intruded into our conversation. Abram was still strug¬ gling to find meaning in a life characterized by discontinuity. He morned the destruction of the community he knew in his birth village of Blumenort, Molotschna. Those villagers, he felt, were innocent people paying the ultimate penalty for crimes they had not committed. In order to hallow their senseless deaths and pro¬ claim their innocence Abram decided to erect a memorial by com¬ piling a list of victims of friends and family he once knew. He established a network of inquiry through friends and relatives and carefully reconstructed their stories. At least some of the people he had known would not be nameless victims of a massive terror. Abram eventually migrated to Germany where he hoped to spend his last days