The Hill of Crosses: Commemorating Suffering, Survival, and the Human Spirit in Siauliai

 Another installment from Dr. Windy Petrie, Associate Professor and English Department Chair at Colorado Christian University, who was a Fulbright grantee to Lithuania in 2006.

During my time in Lithuania, I had the opportunity to visit the northern city of Siauliai to speak about American Woman Writers for the 50^th anniversary celebration of the Humanities at the university there.  After my speech, one of the professors who teaches there took us to the Hill of the Crosses.  I had no idea what to expect from the name, and, frankly, even if I had, the site, and the sight, would still have completely blown my mind. You drive a ways out of town, then down a little side road, and a spreading clump of hills come into sight. When you get out of the car and walk up to them you see that these hills, these mounds, are entirely composed of crucifixes, one piled atop another, and you try to imagine just how many must be there to create such height, such breadth, and you can’t conceive what the total number must be. Or at least I couldn’t. And then you start imagining how each cross placed there was placed by an individual, who made the trip from near or from far, each for a personal, individual, reason.  And you really, really, can’t conceive of that.

This place is truly amazing. It is thought that the tradition might have begun when the town was founded in 1250 AD, although existing records mention them in the early 1800s, possibly due to a local rebellion against the presumption of the czar in the 1830s. People brought crosses in honor of those who had been lost in the fighting at that time, and have continued to bring them during all local and national struggles for liberty since then. It has also served as a site for Christian pilgrims for many years now. It's no wonder that these hills, representing to an extent the collective protest, faith, and hope of the people, grew so large during the Soviet occupation (and grew larger after each Soviet dismantling via bulldozing, blockades, and intentional flooding) and continues to grow today.

Lithuania has had a very complex National history, having been claimed by nearly all of the regional powers at one time, or another, in its long history. Russia, Germany, Poland, and I believe even Sweden, have all staked a claim to Lithuania and its people in the last 500 years. Even Napoleon occupied Vilnius during his losing bid to invade Russia. Lithuania has remained, through it all, a very independent people. Think of it: they were the last people to accept Christianity in the whole of Europe. They fought off the German Teutonic Knights for what I believe ended up being more than a century. More recently, Lithuanians engaged in clandestine, guerrilla warfare with the Soviets for decades after WWII. And they were the first Baltic nation to claim and secure independence in the early 1990's.

As a non-violent means to defy the Soviets during their occupation of Lithuania, the Hill of Crosses became a historical monument to the human spirit. For hundreds of years, individuals have been bringing crosses of all sizes, some taller than a man and others smaller than a key, made of every imaginable material from precious metals to scraps and rags, to express faith and loss in times when such expression was forbidden. 

After the breakup of the USSR, the Hill of Crosses gained worldwide fame. Pope John Paul II visited the sacred site in 1997, and declared the Hill an international site of devotion. At that time, it became known not only a spiritual symbol of Lithuanian tenacity, but a contemporary shrine. When I visited, I saw many new additions to the Hills, bearing labels from all over the world.

Dedicating a September 11th Memorial

It is early September in Vilnius, and the first hint of Fall is in the air. I have only been here for two weeks, but I've been told that the weather is at its most perfect during this time of the year. After evenings of wandering in Old Town Vilnius under a warm clear sky, I am inclined to believe it.

The evening of September 11, this year, happened to be one of these perfect late-summer moments, which I enjoyed in a truly unique place - the Hill of Crosses outside of the small city of Siauliai. A member of Seimas (parliament) from the region, Dr. Egidijus Vareikis, had organized a special dedication of two crosses erected in memory of the victims of the 9/11 tragedy. He had invited members of the American Embassy in Vilnius to make the trip out to Siauliai for the dedication, and Edgaras (one of the local interns) and I were happy to go.

The Hill of Crosses is a landmark unique to Lithuania and the people's rich history of Christianity. It dates back many hundreds of years to when people first started planting crosses on the small hill outside of town, as prayers and symbols of hope and remembrance. The number of crosses grew over the years, as did the place's legendary and holy status. In Soviet times, from the 1950s to the 1970s, the hill was bulldozed on several occasions by the Soviet government. People were arrested for planting crosses on the site, but small symbols of hope still appeared.

Today there are no restrictions or organization of the site whatsoever. The hill is covered in more than 100,000 crosses, of all sizes. Many are wonderful pieces of artwork, handcarved or painted, and a few are towering monuments of Christian faith. In the sprawling collection of crosses and crucifixes, a single wood-plank pathway makes its way up one side of the hill and down the other. From this path you can see small walkways, like game trails, worn into the landscape by thousands of people searching for a place to plant their contribution.

For anybody who travels here, regardless of religious faith or background, it is a moving experience. It is a intimate place, a look inside the heart of the Lithuanian people, which made the 9/11 event particularly special. The two very large memorial crosses had been set at the absolute top of the hill, on either side of the main trail. On the side of each there was placed a small plaque, announcing to any curious person that these crosses were for the United States, to remember their terrible loss. For me - standing in a place dedicated to people who have suffered for so many years, in a country that has experienced astonishing tragedy - the idea that these people cared enough to erect these monuments, which tower over their beautiful sanctuary, was truly humbling.

The ceremony was short and sweet. As the sun set, about 30 people gathered along the path, facing a microphone at the hilltop. Dr. Vareikis spoke a few words and a Father from the local parish gave a prayer, blessing the crosses with holy water. I was then asked to address the group, and stepped forward to thank them. In a few short sentences I tried to convey the feeling of thanks and humility that I felt, and to the few people who spoke English I hope that the message got across. After I was done speaking, a musician took the podium to play a song he wrote for the occasion. He strummed an acoustic guitar and Lithuanian words rang out in a true American country music style. It fit the ceremony very well.

Edgaras and I hung around just a little while after the ceremony was concluded, to thank  Dr. Egidijus Vareikis for inviting members of the America Embassy, and to shake hands with many others who had attended. A local television news station even asked me for a short interview, and I got a second opportunity to express my thanks to the people of that region (in English, for what it was worth). We took a final walk around the site, snapping photos for my and Edgaras' Facebook pages, and we were ready to go.