(Editor’s Note: Former Citizen and Tribune Editor Gary W. Meyer traveled with his Inland Press Association on a three-week study mission to Russia and Ukraine in September of 2003. The following was submitted based on his notes from the trip and due to the current events in that section of the world, the Patriot is obliged to run the story for our readers).

The four days to be spent in Kiev, Ukraine were an add-on to our trip to Finland, St. Petersburg and Moscow. We knew little of the Ukraine. It became the highlight of our journey.

A marvelous overnight train ride brought us into Ukraine from Moscow. We passed through the golden fields of ripened grain just north of Kharchiv (just north of where the Russia-Ukraine war is now raging), there into the capital Kiev, where we took up residence in a beautiful hotel just a mile from the now-famous city-center square, featured so often in television news coverage in the early days of the war — that is, before the war descended upon the city-center. You may remember that extra-large city-center, its expanse of statues and immense circular fountain.

Our days in Ukraine included a number of interviews with local media, visiting sites and dining on wonderful foods. Their world-famous vodka was always not far away.

Ukraine for the past 10 years had been enjoying the privilege of a safe and western society. They elected people of their choice and went to church, mostly orthodox, when they wanted to. Schools were for their choice and as importantly, the newspapers they read were free to report the news of the day.

I remember our visiting the World War II Holocaust museum, just a short  drive out of downtown in a woods. There, Germans rounded up and slaughtered thousands of Ukraine Jews, dumping them into a ravine. It was my first experience with the people recovering from the Holocaust. I don’t think I was able to fully grasp it. How do people do these things to other people? It’s a proper question for the terror the country now experiences.

The streetscapes of 2003 Kiev were like that of many of our major cities. Many of the walkways, with their sidewalk and elevated cafes, reminded me of Minneapolis, or Chicago, or New York. Lunch and dinner service was always provided by smiling, college-age ladies and men.

And all the inviting sidewalk kiosks and flower shop vendors! I’m guessing that part of the world is where “kiosks” came from.

I remembered an evening when I just wanted to walk. My fellow travelers had launched out in different directions and I wandered for a mile before arriving at an airy, half-filled restaurant overlooking a major boulevard. I forgot what I ate, but the wine was superb and the lady waitpersons responded with a vodka (Hetman) when I asked for a suggestion. A bottle of Hetman came home with me.

A unique feature of the streets of Kiev those Sundays that autumn. The government ordained that pedestrians should have complete rights to many of the major thoroughfares, so they mandated there be no vehicles. The people walked the wide streets and many of them lubricated with large plastic bottles of beer. By the end of the night, street cleanup was a major chore. And a lot of people were wobbling.

One afternoon in Kiev, we were offered the opportunity to travel two hours north to Chernobyl to view the closed nuclear plant. Time was short; we opted to take a more convenient city tour. Chernobyl has been out of our scope in the years since. But I remember it as a scary thought.

Our press group was fortunate to have in our company two Ukraine college students, who had attended school in Indiana and were hosted during their college time by two of our press members. The young ladies accompanied us on our daily itinerary, then led small tours of the city after hours. We walked the parks and sat in city-center and came face-to-face with a statue of a number of Ukraine literary giants. Those were warm and fuzzy nights.

I trust the two young students have grown to early adulthood, met a man and are raising a couple frisky teenagers. And they are putting their college training to good use, teaching at a local school. But a more likely scenario is that they are huddled in a basement bomb shelter, worried beyond belief for their lives and their future. It’s a modern courtesy of their aggressors from the east. They deserve all our support — and our prayers.