From one of my photo friends I learned about a park East of Denver in Aurora dedicated to slain Ukrainian Jews during the first part of WWII. It’s called Babi Yar. I thought it would be appropriate on Good Friday to visit the park.

Babi Yar, also spelled Babiy Yar or Baby Yar, large ravine on the northern edge of the city of Kiev in Ukraine, the site of a mass grave of victims, mostly Jews, whom Nazi German SS squads killed between 1941 and 1943. After the initial massacre of Jews, Babi Yar remained in use as an execution site for Soviet prisoners of war and for Roma (Gypsies) as well as for Jews. Soviet accounts after the war speak of 100,000 dead. The true number may never be known. Babi Yar became the symbol of the first stage of killing during the Holocaust and of the massacres by the Einsatzgruppen (German: “deployment groups”)—the mobile killing units.

The German army gained control of Kiev on September 19, 1941. Earlier that year, Adolf Hitler had ordered special SS squads to follow the regular army into the Soviet Union and to exterminate all Jews and Soviet officials. Moreover, a few days after the fall of Kiev, an explosion rocked the German command post in the city, killing many German soldiers and intensifying Nazi outrage toward the Jews, whom they wrongly blamed for the explosion. When SS troops entered the city, the Jews of Kiev were marked for destruction. On September 29 and 30, over a 36-hour period, nearly 34,000 Jews were marched in small groups to the outskirts of the city, stripped naked, and machine-gunned into the ravine, which was immediately covered over, with some of the victims still alive. Over the next two years the mass grave swelled with thousands of other victims, primarily Jews but also including Communist officials and Soviet prisoners of war. As the German armies retreated from the Soviet Union, the Nazis attempted to hide the evidence of the slaughter. Bulldozers were required to reopen the mounds. Bone-crushing machinery was brought to the scene. The bodies were piled on wooden logs, doused with gas and ignited. The flames of the pyres were seen in Kiev. When the work was done, most of the workers, prisoners who had been brought in from a nearby concentration camp, were killed. Under cover of darkness on September 29, 1943, a number of the prisoners attempted to escape, and some 15 survived to tell what they had seen.

The killings were described in detail by eyewitnesses and are vividly depicted in novels by Ilya Ehrenburg (The Storm; 1948) and Anatoly Kuznetsov (Babi Yar: A Documentary in the Form of a Novel; 1967), as well as in firsthand accounts by non-Jewish eyewitnesses in a work entitled “The Good Old Days”: The Holocaust as Seen by Its Perpetrators and Bystanders (1991; edited by Ernst Klee, Willi Dressen, and Volker Riess).

For 25 years after the war, the Soviet Union barely acknowledged Babi Yar. No memorial marked the site. In 1961, in protest against plans to build a sports stadium on the site, Yevgeny Yevtushenko, then a young Soviet poet, wrote a moving poem, Baby Yar, which begins

No gravestone stands on Baby Yar;

Only coarse earth heaped roughly on the gash:

Such dread comes over me.

A year later the poem was set to music by Dmitry Shostakovich as part of his choral 13th Symphony, first performed in Moscow in December 1962. Both Yevtushenko and Shostakovich were reprimanded for their “cosmopolitanism” by the Soviet authorities, who refused to acknowledge the special Jewish significance of a site where other Soviets had been killed.

A small obelisk was constructed at Babi Yar in 1966. In 1974 a 50-foot (15-metre) memorial statue was finally erected. Identification of the victims was vague; the word Jew was not used. Not until 1991, on the 50th anniversary of the Babi Yar massacres, was the identity of the victims recorded on the monument by the newly independent Ukrainian government.

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Babi Yar on Good Friday