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Julia Komissaroff | Homage to unknown father


My father is dead for ten years now. I saw him just once. He was born in filtration camp in Riga, Latvia.
His father was an injured Russian soldier working in a camp as a guard. His mother was 16 year inmate just after her Ostarbeiter forced labor. It was not a love story. My grandfather was an alcoholic, my father became too.

I left the USSR in 91’. Just 14 years old. My mother protected me from my father’s world.
When I’m in Russia this world is finding me.

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