The editors of the Suwalki Memorial Book write: “In our memorial book we give expression to the last breath and cry of pain of our holy martyrs, our parents, our brothers and sisters, our dearest and most beloved, who were thrown into the gas chambers, into the deep pits, burned, shot, smothered, their last prayers and screams cut off and silenced by the Nazi executioners. We want this memorial book to perpetuate their unfinished prayers. Their lives were cut short by the murderers before they could complete their calls: Hear Oh Israel. All of us will say the kaddish by means of this memorial book. However, the Suwalk memorial book is not only a monument for our murdered parents, brothers and sisters, it is also a holy obligation to perpetuate all that distinguished Suwalk and all of the vanished Jewish towns: vibrant Jewishness, faith, creativity, lifestyle, and language.”

On the front cover of the Suwalki Memorial Book, Rabbi Yosef Yoselevitsh, one of the leading rabbinic personalities in Poland, looks at us from the front cover, his bright face shining through the darkness. A reminder of what Suwalki and its Jewish community were: “vibrant Jewishness, faith, creativity, lifestyle, and language.”

The back cover is a list of names. Names of those lost in the Holocaust, long and seemingly endless, difficult to look at, difficult to read, a list of names that strikes at our hearts and evokes sadness, loss and longing.

Stalks of dried grass layered with the names of the lost, reminds us of the forests and fields that surrounded Suwalki, of the every day life there, of the living soul of the place. The forest, which still stands today, where the town once thrived.

The front and back covers together as a whole are meant to represent both intentions of the editors: the intent to express the vibrant Jewish life that was Suwalki, and the intent to express the pain at the incomprehensible loss of Suwalki.

Suwalki, Poland. Let us never forget.