Skip to content
Link copied to clipboard

My brother, Evan Gershkovich, has been unjustly detained in Russia for a year

Journalism is not a crime. We will continue to fight every single day to get him home as soon as possible.

I vividly recall a spring day in 2016 when I was showing my brother, Wall Street Journal reporter Evan Gershkovich, around Philadelphia, and he pointed out The Inquirer Building. “The Philadelphia Inquirer is an excellent publication,” he told me excitedly, surprised I didn’t know.

I had walked past the building many times at that point. New to living in Philly after having moved from New Jersey, I was oblivious to its iconic nature. It was exciting to see the city through my brother’s eyes, and for him to share his passion with me. Journalism is in Evan’s bones, appearing even before he knew he wanted to be a journalist. In 2016, he was already working as an assistant to an editor at the New York Times, on the path to pursuing his passion. In a year’s time, he would move to Moscow to become a reporter in Russia for the Moscow Times. I was so proud that he was able to realize his dreams.

March 29 marks one year since Evan was arrested in Russia while on assignment for the Journal and charged with espionage. He is the first American journalist to be arrested on spying charges in Russia since the Cold War. Of course, we know this is baseless. Evan, the Wall Street Journal, and the U.S. government all vehemently deny the accusation of espionage. Journalists are supposed to tell important stories, and instead, he has become one himself.

Evan was just doing his job as a reporter. It was his dream job, and he was accredited by the Russian foreign ministry to do it. I think of him now, sitting in Lefortovo prison in Moscow, unable to do what he loves. My heart aches for him, an eternally curious, adventurous, and driven person now cut off from the world, from friends and family, missing precious time.

For me, this will always be about my brother. But I’ve grown to understand that Evan’s arrest means much more than that. His arrest was a shock to the global community of journalists and a blow to a free press. Without reporters like him on the ground in Russia, we know even less about a country whose foreign policy directly affects America and all Americans. And it’s not only Evan’s absence that’s felt. Following his arrest, many other news organizations understandably left Russia, leaving an even larger void on the ground during an increasingly tenuous time.

To me, Evan is my silly, loving younger brother who has always been a source of humor and encouragement. His voice is the voice I miss every day, teasing me the way younger brothers do, and showing me new perspectives on the world.

I still think about the last vacation we took together as a family before Evan’s arrest. We rented a house near the Jersey Shore to spend quality time together. My dad brought half the grocery store with him. He and Evan cooked up a storm that my mom, my husband, and I savored: grilled vegetables and meats, boiled potatoes with dill and plenty of garlic. Simple and so delicious. The next day it rained heavily in the afternoon. We all sat on the porch watching the rain together. We were quiet and meditative, savoring this moment together. Soon after, Evan was already beating Dad in a chess match, making us all laugh.

This is who Evan is. He lights up a room, he cares deeply about everyone he loves, and he brings people together. His absence from his friends’ and families’ lives is felt every second of every day.

The timing of all of this feels like a terrible joke. I had just gotten married in October 2022 and was so excited to see our family grow. Evan’s then-new job at the Journal in Moscow meant he could visit us more often thanks to additional vacation time. We were so overjoyed that we would see him more and, before his arrest, had been in the early stages of planning another family vacation at the Shore, sometime between all the weddings he would’ve attended that summer.

Instead, Evan missed all those milestones with friends and family. He spent his 32nd birthday in a Russian prison, and our family has looked at his empty seat during the holidays, wondering when we will see him again. Some days are harder than others, but every day feels like a piece of me is missing. I wonder what Evan is thinking and feeling. I picture him in his small cell and try to send my love to him from afar.

I examine photos and video footage from the courtroom and study them carefully to see what they reveal. I see my brother, with all his quirks and mannerisms that are so near and dear to me. I find his smile and sense of humor to be proof his spirit is still as strong as ever.

Evan is holding on, and he’s remarkably strong. But even a resilient person like him can’t maintain this state indefinitely. The urgency to get him back increases every day. We will continue to fight every single day to get him home as soon as possible.

His family needs him home, his friends need him home, and the world needs him back doing the work he so loves.

Danielle Gershkovich lives in Philadelphia with her husband. She works as an administrative assistant at the University of Pennsylvania.