Title: Hidden in Plain Sight: A Family Memoir and the Untold Story of the Holocaust in Serbia
By: Julie Brill
Amsterdam Publishers
232 pages
In early 1941, Belgrade, the capital and largest city in Serbia, had a bustling Jewish community of about 12,000 Jews. Most were Sephardic Jews who has come by way of the Ottoman Empire, establishing a presence in the city as early as the 1500s.
In the pre-war years, life for Jews in Serbia was in many ways like Jewish life in America: Jews were integrated into every part of society. They were merchants, doctors, lawyers, and intellectuals. There were a multitude of synagogues, Jewish schools, a Jewish hospital, and strong community-run organizations.
But all of that would come to a bloody end in April 1941, when the Nazis took Belgrade in a blitzkrieg that lasted just four days. Almost immediately, antisemitic laws were enacted. In just over a year, by May 1942, Nazi leaders declared the city “Judenfrei,” free of Jews. Over 90% of the city’s Jews were murdered, most by gunshot or gas, and others by hunger and disease.
Hidden in Plain Sight: A Family Memoir and the Untold Story of the Holocaust in Serbia by Julie Brill, an accomplished writer and editor, is one of the rare Holocaust books to take on this piece of history.
What makes the book resonate is its sharp balance of the personal and historical. Brill starts with a simple question: What happened to her paternal grandfather, Moshe Brill? Her father, a Serbian Jewish survivor who spent his childhood in Belgrade’s historic Jewish neighborhood Dorćol, never knew. In fact, his memories of the war years were fragmentary and blurry – he was only a child at the time – which left Brill with more questions than answers and set her on a years-long, all-consuming search. Through archives, interviews, family memories, and two trips to Serbia, Brill pieces together her family’s history. And in doing so, she uncovers a community that was all but wiped off the map.
I was drawn to the book initially because of its focus on the Holocaust in Serbia, a history far less told than that of, say, Warsaw, Vilna, or Berlin. That unfamiliarity gives the story weight. But it’s the book’s emotional resonance that sticks with me. At its core, the book is about what happens when the next generation decides to go looking for answers. The act of searching is transformative. In Brill’s case, she makes discoveries that shake her very identity. Family secrets come to light. And in the process of searching, she reclaims a history that others tried to erase.
I’m the grandchild of four Holocaust survivors, so the book struck a chord. It inspired me to look more closely at my own family’s past. This is what the second and third generations are tasked with: Asking questions. Uncovering our histories. Refusing to let silence be the final word. If we don’t do that vital work, who will?
If I have one critique, it’s that the book occasionally goes into too much detail. Some of the pacing could’ve been tighter. But after eight-plus years of research, it’s hard to fault Brill for wanting to honor every thread. And in truth, those specifics – the names, dates, neighborhoods, and records – are what make the story real.
Hidden in Plain Sight is a rare combination. It’s meticulously researched, emotionally raw, and historically vital. It gives voice to a community almost completely erased, and it does so with grace and force. If you’re a descendant of survivors, a student of history, or someone who understands how personal the past can be, it’s worth the read.