Several months ago, quite by accident, I met a man named Martin Reuther. Martin had been scouring the internet searching for items about Volhynia and came across this very blog. He then searched for me on Facebook and we struck up a chat. He was very friendly and was more than a little surprised of my interest in Volhynia.
He mentioned that the very next day, he’d be traveling to Pluzhne and that he’d be passing through Lisna (Lilewa) and he volunteered to take some photos for me. Sure enough, the next day he was back and he was offering some photos of the village and cemetery there. I thanked him profusely and then he mentioned that he ran an NGO from Zdolbitsa where he had lived for a couple years (he was originally from Germany). His NGO focused on multi-cultural connections. He himself worked to connect people in other countries and right then he was working to connect the agriculture school in Pluzhne with one in USA. His goal was for the two schools to share knowledge, learn from one another, and especially for the Ukrainian students to practice their English skills in dealing with the Americans.
We talked about the fact that my ancestors, German settlers in Volhynia, established several villages in the Pluzhne-Ostrog area and that there are many descendants of these settlers in North America who are interested in the history. Martin seemed very intrigued that there could be people in North America who were thinking about their roots in Ukraine – people who might travel to Ukraine or who would be trying to learn more about the area.
Early on, Martin suggested that we talk via Zoom. He called me and we had a chat about the type of work he does and what my interests were in Volhynia. He was a very relaxed buy; big smile and very confident of himself.
At that time, Martin was working with the city of Ostrog, trying to get them to hire him as some sort of cultural advisor. He said if he could get them to hire him, he’d try to set up a small Mennonite museum in the town somehow. He had me write an email to city administrators to let them know I was researching their town, that my ancestors were from there, and there was interest from the USA in their town. These efforts came to nothing. He later told me that he was almost literally down on his knees begging these administrators to recognize Mennonite heritage in the area but they weren’t interested.
In the summer, we were on vacation – somewhere in Wisconsin – and one morning I got a text from Martin. He had a breakthrough with the agriculture school in Pluzhne and needed to find an American college or university that had a strong agriculture school to partner with. He and I and another of his colleagues went back and forth for several days debating a couple different schools and looking for contacts. It seemed that Martin had adopted me as an American contact and he wasn’t shy about asking for help. I didn’t have a problem whatsoever trying to help him since he seemed like such a good guy.
All was quiet for a while and Martin mentioned once that he’s paired the school in Pluzhne with the University of Maryland. All during this time he was connecting me on Facebook to people and organizations in Ostrog. My Facebook feed got to the point where I couldn’t do anything with it – every post that came across was in Ukrainian. I didn’t even see my American friends anymore.
Then one day Martin appeared and he wanted to phone me. He’d had a meeting in Pluzhne and now he had his chance to press on with some sort of initiative with German Mennonites in Pluzhne. He asked me when I was coming to visit and when I did, I’d sleep in his house and eat his food. He told me that whatever we did – set up a Mennonite museum or whatever – we’d get grants from the government. No one needed to come with a suitcase full of money although he’d welcome that if it happened. We talked via Facebook as he walked along a road towards his home. He was confident and happy and I know no he was totally in his element. He was walking in the sunshine, out in the open in a small town, solidifying an international friendship. That’s what Martin was all about.
The next several weeks had us setting up a Facebook chat with several Ukrainian locals. Martin connected me with a Volyn-German museum in Germany. We had a Zoom conference call with a number of folks and Martin always insisted we all speak English. One of his goals with the whole deal was for the Ukrainians to practice their English on me.
We had a lot of back-and-forth on that chat and then one day Martin suggested that we should adopt the project of restoring a Mennonite house. Several weeks prior, one of the Ukrainians in the chat took photos in Karolswalde and we decided that one of the houses he photographed had to be Mennonite-built. I asked Martin if he was serious and he said absolutely! He said the chat had come to a point where we needed a goal – a project to work on – and the restoration of a house was perfect.
The next several days we talked about logistics, etc. And then Martin contacted me again in a few days and told me to write a letter to administration officials in Khmelnitsky. His Pluzhne-Univ of Maryland project was rolling, he had mentioned me and the Mennonites to them, and they wanted to help. I promptly sent out a message and within a few days I had a letter from a Khmelnitsky official saying she supported efforts and would help organize. She supported using Mennonite history in the area to create relationships. Another few days and I had a similar letter from the head of the village community of Pluzhnanska. Wow! I had two different local administrations pledging their support! This was much farther than I’d ever been with relations with Volhynian folks!
The chat continued and intensified. Alexander and Sergey would go into Karolswalde in 3 weeks and initiate negotiations to purchase the house. Martin said he and I would begin working to write up the project. I didn’t know exactly what that meant but assumed it would be so Martin could apply to the appropriate organizations for funding. We added a couple more members to the chat and really – this house restoration thing was for real! This is actually getting of the ground! Martin mentioned that we needed to organize an online conference to talk about what was going on. We need more people involved, more opportunities for funding.
That night I couldn’t sleep. I got up about 2:00 wanting to move to the couch to sleep. I grabbed my phone so I’d have it for a clock and I noticed there was activity at the chat – several messages from Sergey and Yuri and Alexander all in Ukrainian. Ugh – I need to translate it but it might be something exciting. The first message was from Sergey – “Martin is dead”. Yuri denied it but Sergey persisted. “He’s dead. Go look at his Facebook page”. Back-and-forth… and it was true. I’d talked to him about 15 hours previously but now he was, in fact, dead. Martin had apparently had a pulmonary embolism and suffered sudden death from a heart attack.
Just devastated. Here was a guy – just 41 years old – with a wife and a young son – he’s energetic, kind, enthusiastic, full of ideas and motivation. He had created German departments at a couple Ukrainian universities, created his own NGO to support multinational cultural projects, and now he was gone. He knew how to do everything – he knew how to get funding, how to contact and connect people, knew all the languages, he had contacts everywhere. And he was gone.
I didn’t really even know this guy but I’m absolutely gutted. My plans for restoring a Mennonite house may or may not come true now – that’s an aside actually. We were getting really close to getting things rolling and I may never get that close again. That’s beside the point.
I’m finding out, via Facebook, that Martin was almost “famous”. He was known and admired all across Europe and there are articles being written about him. I don’t know if he was religious, I don’t know what his politics were, I really don’t know much about him. But he tried to help me. He invited me into his home. He was enthusiastic with idea that at first seemed really far-fetched to me, but with his guidance I now believe it could have actually happened. I learned a lot from Martin in just a few short months – he taught me lessons I hope I won’t soon forget.
If we’re able to travel to Ukraine next spring, one of my goals will be to find Martin’s grave and take a few moments there to think about what he’s done for me. Thanks for everything, Martin. I’m very grateful to you. Rest in peace for now but I sincerely hope we’ll meet again someday.
