My Zaidy was from Jedwabne.
I've stood at that ground and prayed.
I looked at the lush green around the town and thought how happy the Jews must have been there with a little plot of land, a few animals, a shul or two.
It's hauntingly quiet there now, and the cemetery is overgrown and has only pieces of stones. The town is a dump, the people surly and ghosts abound.
