Lily, Oh Lily

What if thedead – our dead – never feel to us that they have gone? If family stories,fragments of their lives, continue to nag and haunt us? Lily Hasenburg was justsuch a figure in Holman’s growing years. She was whispered into his ear bygrandmother Eunice – in memorable stories of her older sister, who married andmoved to Germany at the turn of the 20th century, and was later caught up inthe Nazi web spun by Adolf Hitler. Unable to shake loose this story, Holmanpursued her to Berlin, Hamburg and Dresden. Here, we have an account of hispilgrimage; the kind of family history we might bury, and forget – to our loss.