Thank you to Jakub Mitek of the Resursa Obywatelska cultural center in Radom, who so graciously spent a day guiding me through the streets of my grandfather’s hometown and whose encyclopedic knowledge of the city and its history added layers of depth and color to my story; to Susan Weinberg for her work with the Radom KehilaLinks, and to Dora Zaidenweber, for sharing with me what it was like to grow up in prewar Radom; to Fábio Koifman, whose book about Ambassador Souza Dantas and whose assistance in retrieving records at the Brazilian National Archives were invaluable; to Irena Czernichowska at the Hoover Institution, who helped me uncover (among other things) my great-uncle Genek’s nine-page handwritten account of his years in exile and in the army; to Barbara Kroll at the U.K. Ministry of Defense, who sent me stacks of military records and helped me retrieve unclaimed medals of honor for relatives who fought for the Allies; to Jan Radke of the International Red Cross, who hand delivered dozens of relevant documents; to the librarians and archivists at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, who fielded my many questions; to the USC Shoah Foundation for recording interviews with thousands of Holocaust survivors (these video narratives, for me, are like gold); to the members of the Kresy-Siberia Yahoo group who shared their firsthand accounts and pointed me down the proper paths to understanding Stalin’s World War II; to the Seattle Polish Home Association, through which I was connected to a handful of gulag survivors and to a translator-turned-friend, Aleksandra, with whom I worked closely in my research; to Hank Greenspan, Carl Shulkin, and Boaz Tal, historical readers who so generously offered their time and their tremendous expertise; and to the innumerous individuals who have helped catalog and digitize the extensive databases of organizations such as JewishGen, Yad Vashem, the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, the International Tracing Service, the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, the Polish Institute and Sikorski Museum, and the Holocaust and War Victims Tracing Center. The vast amount of searchable information available today, thanks to these resources, is mind-boggling.
Long before my book remotely resembled a book, Kristina, Alicia, Chad, John, and Janet of my writing group in Seattle were among my earliest supporters; they offered thoughtful feedback and, perhaps most important, the encouragement I needed to keep writing month after month. Conversations with Janna Cawrse Esarey inspired my own list of Big Hairy Audacious Goals (including that of completing this book). The nonprofit 826 Seattle believed enough in my work to include a sample of it in its 2014 anthology, What to Read in the Rain; the invitation to contribute was an honor, and just the motivation I needed to hone my work.
John Sherman, dear friend and fellow author, was one of the first few people to read my book from front to back; his unwavering endorsement and keen insights over the years have helped buoy my confidence and take my work to another, better level.
Jane Fransson’s editing prowess did wonders for my book. Her genuine excitement around my family’s story and belief in me as a writer lit a fuse in me, and helped propel my project into the next phase of its life.
Thank you to Sarah Dawkins, for her friendship and her sound advice in navigating the path to publication, and to my girlfriends near and far, who for the past decade have fervently anticipated the release of this book (I pray that it’s been worth the wait!) and have filled me with morale-boosting love and support in the times I needed it most.
If books could have soul mates, that person for We Were the Lucky Ones would be my agent, Brettne Bloom of The Book Group. Brettne’s connection with my story was immediate and heartfelt. Her brilliant mind and gentle yet discerning eye have guided my thought process and my prose through countless collaborations and revisions. I am grateful every day for Brettne’s friendship, for her extraordinary talent, and for the volumes of energy and TLC she has poured into the success of this project.
When my manuscript fell into the nurturing hands of my editor at Viking, Sarah Stein, I knew the book had found its home. Sarah embraced my story and my vision with unchecked enthusiasm and enduring patience, offering round after round of rich and remarkably spot-on feedback. Our partnership has pushed my story, along with my capability as a writer, to heights I’d never have reached on my own.
A huge thanks as well to the entire team at Viking, and to the creative minds that have been so integral in bringing this book to fruition and transforming it into the carefully edited and meticulously designed piece that it is today: Andrea Schulz, Brian Tart, Kate Stark, Lindsay Prevette, Mary Stone, Shannon Twomey, Olivia Taussig, Lydia Hirt, Shannon Kelly, Ryan Boyle, Nayon Cho, and Jason Ramirez. My gratitude as well to Alyssa Zelman and Ryan Mitchell for their artistic design contributions.
On the days over the past decade when I wondered if all of the research and writing was worth the effort, it was my husband who kept me inching toward the finish line. A heartfelt thank you to Robert Farinholt—for his unswerving faith in me and in my project (there is no greater champion of We Were the Lucky Ones), for his infinite optimism (it was Robert who made certain that we celebrated each of the book’s major milestones), and for his insistence on spending our recent summer vacations not relaxing with our toes in the sand but retracing the footsteps of the Kurc family through Poland, Austria, and Italy. There isn’t a soul on this planet I would have rather traversed those 1,100 miles with.
I must thank our son, Wyatt, as well, who has grown alongside this project (he will be five years old upon publication) and who carries himself with a fierce and familiar sense of determination—a trait I’d like to think his great-grandfather would be proud of, and one I hope he will continue to rely upon, as I have, to persevere through life’s highs and lows. Wyatt has grounded me, humbled me, and brought me more joy and perspective than I could have ever thought possible.
I can’t thank my son, of course, without also thanking “his Liz,” as he calls her—our beloved nanny who quietly kept our family afloat when I was buried in my work.
Finally, I would like to offer special thanks to my parents. First, to my father, Thomas Hunter, who penned his debut novel (after a long and successful career in acting and screenwriting) when I was three—I’ll never forget the sound of his Olivetti banging away upstairs in our small home deep in the woods of Massachusetts, or how thrilling it felt to hold a newly minted copy of his Softly Walks the Beast in my hands. From the time I scrawled my own first work (I was four; I called my “novel” Charlie Walks the Beast), my father has been an avid believer in my writing. He is a constant, energizing source of inspiration.
And at last, to the person who seeded the idea for this project many, many years ago and who has been with me every single step of the way since: my mother, Isabelle Hunter. It is impossible to thank her enough for what she has done to help bring We Were the Lucky Ones to life. Having grown up surrounded by several of the characters in the book, my mother has shared priceless personal stories illuminating the Kurcs’ unique family dynamic. She has read and reread my manuscript, and offered meticulous editorial feedback; she has fact-checked and sleuthed for details on my behalf, and dropped everything on multiple occasions to read a chapter, often sending me comments at an ungodly hour in order to meet a deadline. My mother’s passion for this project, like mine, runs deep. She has been a steady, indefatigable presence from start to finish, and I am exceedingly grateful not only for her time and her thoughtful perspective, but for the abundance of love she has infused in me, and into the pages of this book.