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A journalist and author, Kathleen Hart worked as a reporter in Washington, D.C., for 23 years, covering nuclear nonproliferation, energy, and the environment. Born in Holden, Massachusetts, she received her B.A. from UMass, Amherst. She published a nonfiction book, Eating in the Dark: Americaâs Experiment with Genetically Engineered Food, with Random House and has appeared on NPR and C-SPAN. The Kiev Confession, historical fiction set against the fall of the Soviet Union, is her debut novel.
More Books by
Kathleen Hart
âAn engrossing story about truth tellers on both sides of the Atlantic, The Kiev Confession is a journalistic thriller that captures not only the horrors of Chernobyl but the beginnings of the Ukrainian independence movement.âŚKathleen Hart's expertly paced book couldn't be timelier.â
âJohn Feffer, author of Splinterlands
The Kiev Confession
Kathleen Hart
Book Excerpt or Article
The Marchenkos exited their block and joined the crush of
celebrants pouring down Marshal Tymoshenko, a wide boulevard
eight miles north of the heart of the city. Men wore suit
jackets studded with red stars. More than a few women showed
off costumes unpacked once a year, embroidered blouses with
puffy sleeves and flowers woven into braided hairdos. At Minska
Station the family boarded a crowded car for the metro ride to
Khreshchatyk, Kievâs central street. After disembarking, the four
jostled through throngs lining the street. Musical instruments
appeared everywhere, with silver flutes and trumpets glinting in
the morning sunlight.
On the corner where Dmitryâs Pioneer group was gathering,
Ilya, a skinny boy with dark curls fringing his face, waved a red
banner. Dmitry charged off to meet his friend. While Vasyl
fetched a balloon from a man surrounded by children dressed in
their holiday best, Ilyaâs mother beckoned to Larysa. After years
of attending pageants and their sonsâ sporting events together,
Larysa, who worked as a translator, and Maria, a teacher, had
grown close.
Larysa approached her friend with a smile. As they leaned
forward to kiss each otherâs cheeks, however, she saw furrows
creasing Mariaâs forehead. âIs something wrong?â she asked.
âIâm worried about my sister. Iryna and my niece were evacuated
from Pripyat. Theyâre staying with me.â Mariaâs answer came
in a rush. âIrynaâs husband works at Chernobyl, you know, at
Reactor Three, not the one damaged by the fire.â
âWhen were they evacuated?â Larysa had never seen Maria
this rattled. âWere they in danger?â
âThe authorities insisted itâs only a precaution. They put out
the fire. They said the reactor was fine, but they herded everyone
into a thousand buses Sunday afternoon. No pets allowed. Only
one suitcase each.â
Mariaâs words struck Larysa like a blow to her solar plexus.
She had heard about the Chernobyl accident on television Monday
night, of course, and like everyone else she suspected the accident
might be more serious than the terse announcement suggested.
After all, Moscow never acknowledged failings unless the outside
world forced its hand. But then yesterday, Larysaâs neighbor had
told her that Western newspapers were reporting two thousand
corpses stacked on Kievâs streets, which anyone could see was
preposterous. Chernobyl was some sixty miles north of the city,
and Larysa had no family near the nuclear plant. Until now she
hadnât given the accident much thought.
âMy sisterâs out of her wits. They put her husband up with
workers ordered to stay at the station. My niece cries for their dog.
You cannot blame her. Who will feed the poor thing?â
âDid they tell your sister when she can return home?â asked
Vasyl, who had caught much of the conversation. He inched
closer to his wife and Maria.
âThree days, the authorities claimed. My sister refuses to go
outside. Saturday was so hot in Pripyat she brought her nursery
school class outdoors for an hour. Natasha, my niece, went with
her friends to a rooftop to watch the glowing reactor. All the
kids wanted to get a good look. Now, Iryna fears theyâre both
contaminatedââ
Maria stopped talking and stiffened. A man behind them
was telling his companions something about October Revolution
Hospital clearing wards for Chernobyl patients. Maria, Vasyl, and
Larysa strained to make out the manâs words over a cacophony of
music and voices.
Whispers about the nuclear plant rippled through the
crowd. No one knew what to believe. Everyone, it seemed, knew
someone from the Chernobyl area or had caught unjammed
Voice of America broadcasts warning of radiation spewing from
the reactor. Yet Kiev was awash in pageantry as always on May
Day. Crimson banners flapped under a clear blue sky, and stirring
songs filled the air. Waves of children marched past Party officials
in the reviewing stand. There was nothing about the celebration
to arouse suspicion, nothing unusual about the holidayâexcept
the weather. It was not just hot. It was beastly.
Maria turned her pinched gray eyes on Vasyl. âWhat are they
saying at your shop about the accident?â
âNothing beyond what we heard on TV. You know, we only
print posters and honor certificates.â Vasyl paused, giving Maria
a thoughtful look. âIâm no scientist, to be sure. Still, I think
radiation in Pripyat must be serious for authorities to take such
an overt action as evacuating an entire city of forty-five thousand
people.â
âThat is what I believe.â Maria nodded, her lips forming a
taut line. Raising her arm, she used her sleeve to wipe beads of
sweat off her forehead. âThey would tell us if thereâs any danger
here, would they not?â
Larysaâs startled look betrayed her doubt. Kiev was the Soviet
Unionâs third largest city, with two and a half million people, tens
of thousands of whom were filling Khreshchatyk Street. âHow
could they not?â she murmured, more to herself than her friend.
She reached down to untangle the string of Katyaâs pink balloon
from the ribbon on her ponytail.
Vasyl said nothing. He was lost in thought, his eyes scanning
the hot blue sky, the square crowded with children, and the
chestnut trees thrashing in a stiff breeze from the north.
More Articles and Excerpts by
Kathleen Hart
and other authors
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Donna Balon | |
Julia Ibbotson | |
ALISON HUNTINGFORD | |
Keira Morgan | |
Linda Bennett Pennell | |
Art Wyckerham | |
Nethaniel Spero | |
Gail Combs Oglesby | |
Vera Bell |