Silent Heroine

One of my favorite uplifting stories from the Ukrainian freedom movement was the one about the TV sign-language interpreter who, in a moment of great courage, stopped giving the official party line version of the elections and told the people the truth.

Now she's in the U.S. to receive an award (named for another hero of mine, Fern Holland), and a fuller account of her story is being told.

"I was observing it from both sides, and I had a very negative feeling," she said. "After every broadcast I had to render in sign language, I felt dirty. I wanted to wash my hands."

The opposition had no access to the state-run media, but Dmytruk was in a special position as a television interpreter to get their message out.

On Nov. 25, she walked into her studio for the 11 a.m. broadcast. "I was sure I would tell people the truth that day," she said. "I just felt this was the moment to do it."

Under her long silk sleeve, she had tied an orange ribbon to her wrist, the color of the opposition and a powerful symbol in what would become known as the Orange Revolution. She knew that when she raised her arm, the ribbon would show.

The newscaster was reading the officially scripted text about the results of the election, and Dmytruk was signing along. But then, "I was not listening anymore," she said.

In her own daring protest, she signed: "I am addressing everybody who is deaf in the Ukraine. Our president is Victor Yushchenko. Do not trust the results of the central election committee. They are all lies. . . . And I am very ashamed to translate such lies to you. Maybe you will see me again -- " she concluded, hinting at what fate might await her. She then continued signing the rest of officially scripted news.

Before I met, and fell in love with, my beautiful wife, I had a long romantic relationship with a deaf-mute woman, Katrina. She was, among many other things, fearless. She rode motorcycles at 140 mph, fought with swords in tournaments, kick-boxed, and later went off to help rebuild water systems in Iraq. Though Natalia Dmytruk is not deaf-mute (and not a 5-foot-tall, 100 pound Georgia girl who argues all night about the Civil War), I couldn't help feeling a bit of Kat in her. Kat would have done the same thing, if she had had that job. Probably accompanied by goofy eye-rolling tongue-wagging facial gestures.