"As I walked the empty streets of Podgorze, my chest felt heavy. I was overwhelmed with memories. I hadn't been gone long, and the last few years I had lived here had been a nightmare, but what I remembered wasn't the snow shoveling and the shootings and the starvation. I remembered walking to the market with my mother. Visiting my father at work. Playing ball in the street with my friends. This neighborhood had been my home once, and it always would be, even after the "taint" of Jews had been scrubbed away" (pg. 75)