Commentary: A group of Ohioans went to Ukraine for a humanitarian and fact-finding mission. It was wrenching

“I felt so empty,” said Dr. George Jaskiw, head of the United Ukrainian Organizations of Ohio, on leaving Ukraine.

He had seen a brave and battered ally, horribly betrayed by the world’s leading democracy, remain bonded — still — with most Americans who, like besieged Ukrainians, share a profound affinity to live free.

Jaskiw traveled to the Eastern European country recently with a group of Ohioans on a humanitarian/fact-finding mission. It was wrenching to depart for home as things were getting worse.

Russia is bombing the hell out of its sovereign neighbor. People who are glued 24x/7 to their air siren app (to survive incoming missiles and drones) are exhausted but “grimly determined” to keep going, he said.

Ukrainians “are resilient but they are facing a brutal winter. Vladimir Putin will do everything he can to make their country uninhabitable. He’ll bomb bridges, schools, hospitals, power stations, sewer stations.”

Ukraine is pushing back “but Putin’s response is to be a terrorist — which he always was.” 

Jaskiw, a psychiatry professor at Case Western Reserve University School of Medicine with deep ties to Ukrainian culture, history and advocacy, joined a 12-member team from northeast Ohio bound for Ukraine.

The coalition gathered a broad mix of ethnic and political participants that included state Rep. Sean Brennan, D-Parma, who represents the state’s largest Ukrainian population, and Chris Ronayne, Cuyahoga County Executive.

Money was raised beforehand to buy several used ambulances for delivery to the Ukrainian front lines through an organization (Focus Ukraine) that purchases them in Europe.

Jaskiw explained that ambulances have “a very short half life” in the war because Russia targets them all the time.

“If you get an ambulance, you get a three-person hit. You kill the driver, you kill the medic, and you kill the soldier, at the very least.”

Ohioans drove the vehicles from Prague to Ukraine in a convoy and, in a moving ceremony, handed them over to soldiers in Lviv, more than 300 miles from the combat zone. The original destination (Kiev) was scratched as the capital city suffered heavy, indiscriminate bombing.

Jaskiw and his companions spent days in western Ukraine talking with local officials, meeting with volunteer organizations, visiting logistic centers, drone factories, net-weaving places, soup kitchens.

“We spoke with many ordinary people on the streets, taxi drivers, restaurant workers” who were weary to the bone from a war that has dragged on for five long years. But they soldier through the horror because “they have no choice,” said Jaskiw.

“They all know what happens in the areas occupied by Russia. It’s genocidal terror, you know, summary arrest, disappearances, executions, torture. So the only option they have is to fight on or to die, basically.” 

Cemeteries are running out of space. Jaskiw, who has made several trips to Ukraine, returned to a prominent military burial ground called Field of Mars in Lviv where the price of war, of Ukraine’s resistance, is evident everywhere.

“The saddest part was seeing mothers coming to the cemetery with their young kids, infants, two and three-year-olds” to see where their father is buried. “It breaks your heart to see the human cost of what’s going on.”

Something else broke Jaskiw’s heart. The son of Ukrainian refugees was in the country when the Trump regime did a 180 on supporting Ukraine’s existential battle for survival against sadistic Russian annihilation.

The president abruptly announced a deal to buy diesel from Putin when diesel prices averaged $6.18 a gallon in the U.S. going into the midterm election.

Not only did the convicted felon reward Putin with billions in new revenue while Ukraine burned, but he pressured Ukraine to suspend its attacks on Russia’s energy infrastructure even as Russia continued to assault its cities and power grids.

Days later, Trump waived and paused major sanctions and tariffs against Russia.

Then vital Starlink connections were mysteriously throttled in Ukraine leaving the country defenseless against incoming Russian drones.

Ukraine also said it received no expected warning from U.S. intelligence sharing about scores of ballistic missiles launched by Russia against Ukraine throughout October.

Were the interruptions in vital communications or internet connectivity intentional?

Adding insult to injury was an American “envoy” gushing over Putin as a “humanitarian” for releasing an American (that should never have been taken hostage) on the same day a Russian jet-powered drone slammed into a crowded train station in Ukraine killing at least 14 people.

“As someone in Ukraine said, ‘we feel like we’ve been stabbed in the back.’ I was speechless,” recalled Jaskiw. “I mean, we are basically giving succor and money” to a “genocidal power” resolved to subjugate, if not destroy an ally, that also “seeks to undermine us, psychologically, militarily, financially. The question I got asked is, ‘You know that Russia helps Iran develop its rockets and gives it coordinates that can kill Americans in the Middle East and you know North Korea’s dictator is getting ballistic technology from Moscow, right?? So how can you support Moscow? I had no answer.” 

But the Ukrainian advocate is also resilient.

“I hope when this midterm election passes, we return to some semblance of balanced government and that there’s a bipartisan effort to right” what has gone so wrong with the United States aligning itself with a ruthless authoritarian adversary over a fledgling democracy allied with America.

Jaskiw is confident there is a bipartisan majority in both the House and the Senate that is not supportive of Russia and that, like a majority of Americans, backs Ukraine.

“We will liaise with our political representatives and with our ethnic allies,” said Jaskiw.

He left Ukraine relieved to be in a place “where I could rest my head knowing there’d be power and water but gripped by emptiness. For betrayed and terrorized Ukrainians who still brook a fierce American kinship to live free.