Not? To the best of my recollection, but I honestly don't remember now. Boguslavsky was an entirely different character. The family was entirely different, and we went to see them out in what was then called the Micro-regions of Leningrad, which was in itself like a again, in retrospect, was like a bad movie. We didn't think so at the time. It was quite, quite scary at the time. Um, we were told exactly. We were given the directions how to get a cab, where to get a cab from, uh, you know, where to get them, where to have the cab. Let us off. Of course. You didn't want to have the cab. Let you off in front of their apartment house. And then finding, oh, my God, finding the number amongst these huge concrete slabs of so-called apartments which were built one after the other was was almost like a maze, actually. It was just incredible. Um, after a day or two, we were able to actually phone these people and they met. Some of them met us downstairs, but the first time that we went to meet them, um, we had to make our way there. And I remember that was just a really a nightmare. Uh, but anyway, we did find them, and I remember going up. It's funny, the things you remember. I remember going up in the elevator of Boguslawski's so-called apartment with other people from the building. And you have to remember, these buildings were massive. Um, and again, we had been quite well briefed, of course, not to not to open your mouth and say anything on the elevator. Even though we were dressed, we thought quite modestly and in black clothing, and nevertheless, it was quite obvious to anybody seeing us that we were not Russians. That was quite obvious, but we shut up. We didn't speak to each other. And, uh, of course we got some looks from the people in the in the elevator. But we finally made our way to Boguslawski's, uh, door. And I remember again, distinctly knocking on his door, uh, saying, you know, them, them approaching the door. You could hear them approaching the door. And, you know, they said, damn. We said, Shalom, Shalom, Yisrael, you know, door opened and we were welcomed with open arms and all the warmth of, uh, of the refuseniks and the and the families of the prisoners of Zion, of course. And, uh, but in any event, Boguslavsky and his family, whom we came close, became close to in that just 2 or 3 days that we spent with them, um, they were secular. They were committed Zionists through and through. They had suffered tremendously, uh, because of that. Um, and they too, I have to say again, in retrospect, they, they they exuded strength. They gave us strength. I mean, it's so hard now to, to convey this, but the feeling we had from them, the, the, the sense of, uh, it's just a very difficult thing to explain, the sense of, of connection we had with them. The, um. The, the admiration we had for these people. Again, they were probably ten years older than we were at the time. They were in their 30s, probably mid 30s, uh, just quite, quite incredible. Um, there's another family now I really must remember their name because they're now in Atlanta. Uh, the alaskas. We met through the boguslawski's actually the family of and again, I don't remember their first name. I think it was Vladimir Olesker, uh, from Leningrad. And just to fast forward 20 years, um, they again we struck up a very they were younger. They were also students like us and, uh, they spoke English and we struck up again, a very strong connection, emotional connection with them. And years and years and years later, I lost contact with them completely years later. Let's see, that was 1974. In 1999, uh, a year or two after I made Aliya, I met at a political meeting here, some a young woman with the last name of Olesker. I said to her, well, it's not a very common name. Would you by any chance be the daughter of or related to? And she looked at me and she said, oh, she said, well, that's my uncle. And she then put me in touch with them. Uh, they were they had got out actually quite soon after we visited them. They got out in 1975, 1976, and they, uh. Vadim. Vadim I think Vladimir Vadim, um, became a professor. He's a professor now at Emory University in Atlanta. I'm in touch with them. I've visited them in Atlanta. Uh, so again, just just another sidetrack of a story here of of where we're going with all this, um, but just. Yeah, the different types of people that we met on that trip. And that's just in Leningrad. We met Yevgeny Lane on that trip in Leningrad. Uh, no. I'm sorry. That was the other trip. I'm sorry that I take that back. That was 1986. Um, no, 74. We did not meet Lane. Uh, in any event, that was Leningrad. That was Yom Kippur in Leningrad. Um, from there we went to Kiev. Kiev was an entirely different set of circumstances. The information we had been given about the Jews in Kiev by the Israelis turned out to be entirely wrong. Um, they had told us in Kiev, in and in Odessa that the people we would be meeting had in fact requested permission to leave when we knocked on the doors in actually primarily in Odessa. Every single one of them, I think, without exception, uh, told us that they, in fact, were not interested in Israel. They wanted to come to America and they did not want to talk to us. And, uh, so that was a bit of a, as we say in Hebrew, a, a screw up, um, in Kiev, uh, that was the place where we had, uh, problems in the shul because because of our lack of ability to connect with families of refuseniks in Kiev, we actually didn't connect with any of them, to the best of my recollection. Um, we ended up playing tourist in Kiev. Um, and actually, there's some very funny stories about what happened to us playing tourist in Leningrad. But okay, I could sit here for hours and talk about that. And there are other things to talk about. Um. Uh. Kiev. Um, Kiev. We were in the shawl that was in the puddle. Podolskaya, uh, which is the old Jewish area. And it was the first days of Sukkot. Again, to cut a very long story short, what happened there was the Shamas. And I actually have a picture of this somewhere. The shamas of that shawl, uh, was clearly in the pay of the KGB. There was no question about it. Um, I had one of these tiny little siddurim from Israel that you put in the palm of your hand. We had been told. Yes. You know, if you meet somebody, you know, you can shake his hand and pass off this this, uh, thing of tehilim. I speak French, so I had met a elderly. What I thought then was an elderly gentleman who was probably no more than 60, um, in the courtyard, and we were speaking French, and, uh, I said to him, I said, well, you know, let's shake hands. And he put out his hand, and I and I gave him this, uh, this little white sitter. And I went off back upstairs into the shawl, into the ladies section. The shawl was quite empty. As I got up back upstairs, a fracas ensued, and from downstairs the Shamas, who must have seen this, somehow yells upstairs something in Russian, which I didn't know, of course, what he was talking about, but I kind of figured out what he was talking about, and, uh, the the entire service stopped. Um, my ex-husband was downstairs in the front row with the men, just kind of schmoozing. And, uh, the woman who was the the female gabbai upstairs literally pulled me out, took me and, uh, into a room that my ex-husband was already there. The shamas came in, another person came in. Fortunately, they didn't lock the door. Fortunately, they didn't lock the door, and they proceeded to yell and rant and rave for about ten minutes, mostly in Yiddish, because that's what we understood. about how we were endangering the congregation and how we were provocateurs and how we were Zionist agents, and on and on and on and on and on. And we just played totally dumb, as if we didn't understand anything. And after about ten minutes of this, we we looked at each other and we made a run for it. We just pulled open that door and we literally made a run for it. And we literally ran back to the hotel. And of course, at that point, we knew that they were on to us, so to speak. And our next stop in Odessa, um, again, we had knocked on. We had many addresses in Odessa. Not a single one worked out. We were there for, uh, must have been in Odessa. And I have pictures of the sukkah. Very beautiful sukkah in the what was then the only operating, um, shul in Odessa. And we had kiddush in the sukkah. And we, we lay low in Odessa. We kind of played tourists and we really lay low, lay low. And then we ended up in Czernowitz, in Chernivtsi, which was then Ukraine, and there we had some very, very, very profound experiences that were not expected and, um, that that could be divided into several areas. One had to do with the Jewish cemetery in Czernowitz. Uh, we met a fellow named Sasha Dorogobuzhsky, who I will never forget, who is today living in, uh, somewhere up in Nahariya, uh, who was again, about our age. He was married with small kids. He and his family were literally living on their suitcases. This was in Czernowitz, 1974. Literally living on their packed suitcases again. I'll never forget this. Um, with no rational reason. They had no rational reason to think they were going to get permission. They had requested permission from relatives in Israel. The letters hadn't arrived, they had not been given an invitation, etcetera, etcetera. But they were convinced, absolutely convinced that they, the Dorogobuzhsky family, was going to end up in Israel and they were going to be given permission tomorrow, and that they were going to be out of there. And again, Sasha was one of the most upbeat people, Um, and I don't remember what language we spoke to him in. Maybe in Hebrew. Actually, I think he learned Hebrew. And he took us to the Jewish cemetery in Czernowitz. And again, I have pictures of this, uh, which back then, in 1974 was a schunda from the shandor's, um, uh.