Even as a child, I was accompanied by a deep, inexplicable sadness. It was a sense of being a stranger in my own time, as if I didn’t quite fit into the world I was born into. When I saw images from the Second World War – the faces in the ghettos, the shadows behind the barbed wire of the concentration camps – I felt a tremor that went far beyond mere empathy. At the time, I knew nothing of my heritage or the fate of my ancestors. But the soul seems to know what the mind cannot yet comprehend.

When I finally learned the truth about my family, a years-long, often desperate search began. I leafed through countless photo books, hoping to discover a familiar feature in the anonymous faces of the victims. My family was convinced: there is nothing left. Everything was destroyed in the war, except for one single photograph. Even the great archives in Yad Vashem, Arolsen, and Washington had no answers for me. I spent nights scouring endless digital transport lists, only to find myself facing a void time and again.
I had almost given up hope. But decades later, in a world where archives digitized their treasures, the impossible happened. On a 1920 registration card from the city of Łódź, I suddenly found them: Benjamin, Perla, Julek, Józiek, and of course, Halina.
In that moment, seeing their names in black and white, my search became a mission. I wrote my book, "What Silence Left Behind", to give them back their voices.

But Clio and Quill is more than just a companion to my own story.
I founded Clio and Quill as a publishing house because I firmly believe that every person has a story to tell that is worth preserving. My vision is not only to publish my own family's history but to create a place that gives space to other voices that are at risk of being lost in silence.
I want to inspire people to explore their own roots and to give their thoughts a worthy place. Clio and Quill provides hand-selected tools of inspiration – fine companions that serve as anchors for memories and support you on your journey – while also serving as the publishing home for stories that need to be told. Because when we start to write and preserve, we ensure that nothing and no one will ever be truly forgotten again.

Viviane A. Grabik