Elya

My father, Elya Kievsky, was born in Cherkassy, Ukraine in December of 1948.   At an early age, however, my father came home and announced that he no longer wanted to be called by the Jewish name “Elya”, but rather by the Russian name “Alik”, so as to blend in more with Russian society.  Although it was never legally changed, the name “Alik” was so well adopted that it wasn’t until I was fourteen and living in New York that I actually learned my father’s real name.

Using a more Russian-sounding name, however, didn’t help Elya escape the difficulties of being a Soviet Jew and the son of a Bolshevik.

Even after leaving Siberia, my father saw the limits that the Soviet Union would impose upon him and repeatedly tried to escape the Soviet Union, only to return unsuccessful. So, when the opportunity arose to leave the Soviet Union, my father didn’t hesitate to take his entire family – my mother, both of my widowed grandmothers, my sister, and myself – away from the only world they had ever known.  Officially, the Soviet Union allowed us to leave for Israel, but it was always my father’s intention to go to America, the land of opportunity

Now, thirty-one years later, having achieved the American dream, my father wants to move to Israel, where my grandfather lived as a young man and to which he always dreamt of returning.