Thursday, March 10, 2022

The normality of atrocities in Ukraine is unsettling



You may have seen the horrific photograph of a mother and two children killed by mortar fire. The image was taken seconds after the explosion by a New York Times photographer who happened to be nearby. The Times printed it on the front page a couple days ago and the image has gone viral. Today's Times includes a story on the image and the people involved, beginning with this:

KYIV, Ukraine — They met in high school but became a couple years later, after meeting again on a dance floor at a Ukrainian nightclub. Married in 2001, they lived in a bedroom community outside Kyiv, in an apartment with their two children and their dogs, Benz and Cake. She was an accountant and he was a computer programmer.

Serhiy and Tetiana Perebyinis owned a Chevrolet minivan. They shared a country home with friends, and Ms. Perebyinis was a dedicated gardener and an avid skier. She had just returned from a ski trip to Georgia.

And then, late last month, Russia invaded Ukraine, and the fighting quickly moved toward Kyiv. It wasn’t long before artillery shells were crashing into their neighborhood. One night, a shell hit their building, prompting Ms. Perebyinis and the children to move to the basement. Finally, with her husband away in eastern Ukraine tending to his ailing mother, Ms. Perebyinis decided it was time to take her children and run.

They didn’t make it. Ms. Perebyinis, 43, and her two children, Mykyta, 18, and Alisa, 9, along with a church volunteer who was helping them, Anatoly Berezhnyi, 26, were killed on Sunday as they dashed across the concrete remnants of a damaged bridge in their town of Irpin, trying to evacuate to Kyiv.

Their luggage — a blue roller suitcase, a gray suitcase and some backpacks — was scattered near their bodies, along with a green carrying case for a small dog that was barking.

Let's do some "x-ray reading of this news story, which goes on much longer. The writer chose to NOT begin with the Ukrainian couple's names but opted for "they," which injects a bit of mystery but also some universality. Their relationship is captured in just three sentences and their story seems familiar and unremarkable.

The second graf continues adding some personal details, all of which help the reader get to know the main characters -- the Perebvinis. 

The third graf provides the quick timeline on the family's choices and actions of the past few weeks.

And the fourth graf contains the "nut" of the story, building on the abrupt "They didn't make it." The most profound statements are often best found in short, punchy sentences. "I love you." "Jesus wept." "Forget it." That very short first sentence stops the reader short, and allows for a breath to take readers through the compound, complex sentence that follows.

Less skilled writers might have begun the story with the lengthy second sentence of the fourth graf. After all, it answers the 5 Ws and H and makes clear why readers should be reading this news report right now. But pathos is added with those first three grafs that set the scene, almost lulling us with the normality of their lives.

And then comes the kicker, for me at least, of that fifth graf, featuring the luggage details and the assorted colors -- blue, gray, and green -- and the final detail of the small barking dog that survived the shelling, ast least for a time. 

No one WANTS to see this sort of photo. Few WANT to even read about this senseless slaughter.

But the public sometimes NEEDS to be grabbed by the collar, so to speak, and forced to see events in their raw form. 

I can't imagine how reporters in Ukraine are dealing with the combination of huge events and personal danger. I can't imagine the agony of a man losing his wife and two daughters in an instant.

But this sort of reporting and writing can help see events more clearly,.

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