National Network for Equitable Library Service

"How much longer could we last?" sixteen-year-old Amek Adler laments, after arriving at yet one more concentration camp in the spring of 1945. From the Lodz and Warsaw ghettos to the Radom forced labour camp, and from the Natzweiler concentration camp to Dachau, Amek has witnessed too much destruction and tragedy to bear any more suffering. To hold onto hope for his survival, he dreams of the life he had with his parents and three brothers, reminiscing about holidays, social events and dinners; he dreams of a life without pain and starvation; and he dreams of the future.

Bronia and Josio (Joseph) grew up in Kozowa, a shtetl filled with lively culture, eccentric characters and extended family. When Bronia met Josio, she was charmed by his confidence and fearlessness. Separated when Josio was drafted into the army, reunited amid the chaos of war, their connection endured as their persecution intensified. When everything they held dear was lost, together they built a future.

In this first Azrieli Foundation anthology, twenty-five women reflect on their experiences of survival – from the heart-stopping fears of hiding to the extreme risks of “passing” as non-Jews, and from the terrors of the Nazi camps to the treacheries of the Soviet Union. This powerful collection, woven together by the common thread of resistance, features a wide variety of narrative styles, including prose, poetry and diary excerpts.

Family mysteries often remain tangled for decades, just waiting for someone to pick up the thread and begin to unravel the web. Filled with questions, the author puzzles over her family history. What was life like for her father growing up in the Galician shtetl of Borchov at the turn of the last century? Why did her Grandpa leave for New York so suddenly? And why did her Grandma never leave, even after her two sons did?

It has been fashionable to view the Classical past as a thing dead and frozen, scarcely accessible and certainly of no relevance to current international affairs. It has also been fashionable to over-sensationalize the past, and draw conclusions that are hard to justify in the light of the available evidence. The essays in this book explore aspects of Roman Imperial history, and try to define some of the experiences that we and our remote historic ancestors may have in common.

Since childhood, author Fiona Gold Kroll has been drawn to a photograph of her great-uncle, Benjamin Albaum, a Jewish man who disappeared from Paris at the beginning of World War II. A Stone for Benjamin is the compelling story of Fiona’s quest to discover his fate. Chasing Holocaust shadows across Europe and beyond, Fiona begins her powerful journey searching for clues with nothing more than a misspelled name, old photographs and family stories.

On December 27, 1979, the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan, a distant land unknown to most Canadians. A crucial fall-out was the American-led boycott of the 1980 Summer Games in Moscow, which Canada eventually joined, forcing 212 Canadian athletes to shelve their Olympic dreams, some temporarily, many forever. For the athletes, there was and is sadness at a missed opportunity to excel on the Olympic stage and disappointment that their sacrifice was but a token response, still largely unacknowledged.

Mary Seacole: The Making of the Myth is the first book to challenge the popular misconceptions that surround Mary Seacole’s iconic status as a “pioneer nurse” and battlefield heroine, intended, by some, to replace Florence Nightingale in those roles. McDonald masterfully disentangles reality from the myths, both those that exaggerate Seacole’s work and ignore or denigrate Nightingale’s.

In February 2004 the first of many U.S. soldiers came to Canada, seeking sanctuary after saying "no" to the war on Iraq. Unlike the Vietnam War when over 40,000 draft dodgers and military deserters successfully struggled to make Canada their home, this new generation of war resisters has been denied refuge by the Canadian government. Now they fight a battle they could not have predicted: to make their home in a country that publicly refused to join the Iraq War and that continues to deport them.

The Steppes Are the Colour of Sepia: A Mennonite Memoir invites the reader to embark on a journey that traces the paths of ancestral memory over the steppes of the Russian empire to the valleys of Canada’s Fraser River. Connie Braun’s narrative continues where Sandra Birdsell’s historical fiction Russlander has left off – back to the catastrophic events of twentieth-century Europe.