It was behind a farm house that we were led to by a young family we found at the side of the road in Sudarg. The sign indicates that this is the old Jewish Cemetery.
Fania Hilelson Jivitovsky at the grave of her Great-grandfather, Dov ber Dov Rosin in the Sudarg Jewish Cemetery
The grave of Fania Hilelson Jivitovsky's Great-grandmother, Devorah Leah bat Shavtai Rosin
These were two of the very few headstones still in the cemetery. The farmer told us that behind the cleared section of the cemetery, which looked like a field, due to the lack of headstones, there was a wooded area that contained even more headstone. Micha and Joel and Gary walked back and found just a couple of other reminants of headstones. Fania give the farmer some money to take care of the cemetery.
We were led to this house because the farmer who lived next to the cemetery said that he knew of this man who lived in Sudarg before the war and might know of Fania's family. This scene was the yard of the second man's home.
He identified them in photos that Fania showed him. He said that he had been taken to Berlin as forced labor, and when he returned all his Jewish friends were gone. He retold the same stories of how they were murdered as Fania had heard: "the children were killed by swinging them by their legs so that their heads hit trees!"
In this home, there is a window with an unusual shape, which is the same as was pictured in the photo of the Hilelson family in Sudarg in about 1940.
Young Sudarg boy, whose mother and uncle led us to the Jewish Cemetery pictured above and also the Mass Massacre Site of the Sudarg Jews
These people could not have been more helpful. The uncle went wandering in the woods trying to find the second mass massacre site. He only stopped when we told him we needed to continue on our trip.
Joseph Rosin has a pre-war photo of this building intact. This cemetery was the most overgrown that we saw. Note all the rather mature trees right next to the headstone. We felt that somehow this small cemetery should be cared for, possibly through contributions from children of survivors of Kibart. Kibart was literally on the Prussian-Lithuanian border and was one of the very first towns to be overrun by the Nazis in June 1941. Joseph Rosin had asked us to photograph as many of the headstones in the cemetery as possible. Armed with this directive, we all went around trying to capture every headstone on film or on digital camera.