Oleksandr Polishhk knows that he suffers more than most.
He lost friends after joining the Ukrainian army in 2015 when Russia invaded East Ukraine. He lost his first wife to the pandemic. In 2022, shortly after the Russians launched their large -scale invasion, he was captured and lost his freedom for 100 days. As a prisoner of war in the humid and dark basement of an improvised prison in an old shoe factory, he lost part of his view.
But Mr. Polyhuk also knows how to face. He married again and had a daughter. He went to work in a recycling center. When the air noise sirens woke the family early on Thursday, Mr. Polishchuk threw himself on his robe, wrapped his 2 -year -old son in a blanket and ran to the basement. He had done this almost every night of his life, after each siren.
This time, he never succeeded.
The missile hit before Mr. Polyhuk could get there, leaving him grabbing his child in a pile of rubble, both alive. The weapon, which according to the Ukrainian authorities was manufactured by North Korea, had crashed into the balcony where, a few days before, the family was roasting marinated pork chops to celebrate the 44th birthday of Mr. Polishhk’s wife, Anna Polishchuk.
The explosion killed 13 people and wounded almost 90, the most fatal attack in the capital, kyiv, since last summer. For this article, the New York Times spoke with more than a family of family members, neighbors and friends of the victims, a community at full speed, decades and backed.
The building was built duration of World War II, and the people who lived there were as much family as neighbors. Its residents received their apartments duration of Soviet times. Most of them stayed for decades. The children grew and left and returned. Elsewhere. Other relatives moved.
“This building was born due to the war, and another war destroyed it,” said Oleksiy Kasian, 47, a close friend of Mr. Polyshuk who also grew in the neighborhood.
For President Trump, this attack stood out more than others. Upon arriving at a crucial moment in the negotiations to end the war, Trump published in Truth Social that the Russian strikes “were not necessary and very bad weather.” He reprimanded President Vladimir V. Putin de Russia, a man who has been more or praised as a strong leader, writing: “Vladimir, stop!”
After the missile strike, Sergey V. Lavrov, Russia’s Minister of Russia, said Moscow only pointed to “sites used by the military.” Russian officials have made similar comments after Striikes arrived at a kyiv Children’s Hospital, a recreational courtyard in Kryvyi Rih and an orphanage in Sumy. More than 13,000 Ukrainian civilians have killed in the war.
There were no exterior signs that Mr. Polychuck’s building was used by the Ukraine Army. It was a low and crowded building painted in a cheerful yellow. A smiling face and the word “Smele” (a bad spelling of “smile”) were graffitiated near one of the front doors.
Duration Soviet rulebro, the state distributed the 12 apartments of the building to the people who worked on the nearby Antonov aircraft plant, an advantage of the communist era. Mr. Polyhuk’s parents worked at the factory. They were suitable. 10.
The families of wanted to leave buildings as thesis, called “barracks” or “two -story buildings”, and in the most pleasant. When the Antonov company built higher buildings, the waiting list was quickly filled.
After the nuclear accident in Chernobyl, Ukraine, in 1986, the new apartments were for people affected by the disaster and the workers who helped with cleaning. When the Soviet Union collapsed and Ukraine declared independence in 1991, families in the “barracks” were excavated.
Mr. Polishchuk lived in the building for almost all its 46 years. His apartment had only three bedrooms. He, Anna and his daughter, Oleksandra, shared one, sometimes joined the 19 -year -old Anna daughter. Family members stayed in the other rooms.
Friends in other apartments also live with their extended families. At least two residents were in the army. Oleksandr Maisiura, a border guard who had worked hard to get Mr. Polyhuk from captivity, had just returned from the front line because he needed cardiac operation.
Oleh Hudya, a wounded soldier on the first line three months earlier, lived on the first floor with his wife, his 17 -year -old son and his 14 -year -old daughter. There was also a doctor and their two adult children, 19 and 21. A 27 -year -old aestheticist and her husband. A 33 -year -old locksmith. An 84 -year -old pensioner, who lived with his cat.
The missile hit after 1 in the morning on Thursday. Mr. Polishchuk had reached the door of his apartment, which had a thick and cargo wall. When the building collapsed around it, the door and the wooden beams that fall formed a kind of shelter that protected it and oleksandra of the sausage of the rubble. He snuggled on her, trying to protect her from dust.
“When the dust cleared a little, I turned to my left, and there was nothing there, just a huge crater,” said Polishchuk later. He added: “I was completely dark, and I could only see the sky and the stars. I saw the neighboring building of great height. At that time, many people cried for the help of the windows. It was scary, for being chosen for being rescued. Toe Bewe Bee Bewe Bewe Toe Bewe Toe Bee Bewed Toe Bewed Toe Bewe Toe Bewed Toe Bewed.
Mr. Polyhuk’s neighbors saw it. Olena Khirkovska, 57, an accountant who had planted Petunias the previous day, and her husband, Ihor Khirkovsky, ran. Mr. Khirkovsky Tok the child in his arms, while Mr. Polyhuk came out of the rubble.
Covered with dust and using only his robe, Mr. Polishchuk then cradled Oleksandra and walked 10 minutes to the nearest subway station to hide in the shelter in case of more missiles. I had no shoes. Oleksandra just wore a diaper. Hours later, Mr. Kasian, Mr. Polyhuk’s friend, found him already his daughter in the subway still covered with dust.
Later on Thursday, they would find out that Anna Polishchuk had died on the strike. Then Mr. Hudya, the wounded soldier; His wife and 17 -year -old son; Mr. Maisiura, the border guard; The two children of the doctor; The locksmith; The aestheticist; And the pensioner.
“In this building, everyone knew each other,” Polyhuk said. “It seems that I lost my entire extended family.”
Mr. Kasian and his wife are now helping to take care of Oleksandra. They are raising money to buy the basics, such as diapers and baby food. Mr. Polishchuk is sleeping in a bunk in the aluminum recycling plant where he works. He said he will begin again: find a new home and then take care of Oleksandra on his own.
On Saturday afternoon, Halyna Sosiura, 69, with a white bathing gown and tanned moccasins, walked towards the rubble battery and sobbed, looking at what was gone. She and Mrs. Polishchuk had been friends. They heroes watch together when Mr. Polishchuk was captured by the Russians.
“Oh my God, she was there, she was there,” Sosiura said, tears that ran on her face. “Oh, my God, and he survived captivity, and we pray together for him. And now he survived with the child, but she has left. How can you survive here? How can someone survive?”
Nataliia Novosolova Kyiv contributed reports.
