'He's 98 and still living a life': Ukrainian refugee and world's oldest tennis player competes in Florida
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BOYNTON BEACH — The attacks started on Kharkiv, Ukraine's second-largest city, early during the Russian invasion and 98-year-old Leonid Stanislavskyi was determined to stand his ground.
"I am not afraid," Stanislavskyi said through interpreters. "I lived through the Second World War. I already cried."
But Stanislavskyi eventually was convinced it was not safe to stay. He began a journey in early March that led to him being reunited with his daughter in Poland and then on to South Florida, where he played in the ITF Super Seniors World Individual Championships in Boynton Beach.
Stanislavskyi, along with being a refugee from a war-torn country, also is the world's oldest competitive tennis player.
Stanislavskyi lost, 6-1, 6-1, last Monday to George McCabe of Oxford, Ohio, in a match that lasted about 90 minutes with just the typical breaks. He was very happy with the way he played against a "younger" opponent.
McCabe is 90.
But this match was not just about tennis.
Not to the 50 or so spectators who lined the court at Coral Lakes Country Club and asked for photographs. Not to Stanislavskyi, who wore a warm-up jacket and T-shirt proudly displaying his country's blue and yellow colors, at times clutched a small Ukrainian flag and draped himself in a larger flag following the match.
And not to McCabe, who while wearing a USA shirt and hat, was very respectful of his opponent and said everything Stanislavskyi has endured in his personal life and on the court is "an accomplishment."
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Also, not to Dan Lobb, a broadcaster and producer from the United Kingdom who befriended Stanislavskyi three years ago while making a documentary on senior tennis players, and helped Stanislavskyi flee Ukraine.
"He represents what Ukrainian people are all about," said Lobb, who accompanied Stanislavskyi to America. "It's about resilience and pride and personal strength and that desire for freedom. Knowing if he stayed in Kharkiv, there was no freedom for him. I couldn't accept that."
Welcome to America
Leonid Stanislavskyi's story is similar to the millions who have been forced to leave Ukraine after it was invaded by Russia earlier this year.
Kharkiv is home to 1.4 million people. The region took the brunt of the bombing early in the invasion and parts were decimated by Russian air attacks in March. Buildings were flattened and residents were forced into hiding, many in underground metro stations.
Stanislavskyi, who has a Ph.D. in engineering, has been living alone since his wife died seven years ago. He said he did not witness any of his friends or fellow Ukrainians lose their lives, but, "I saw neighborhoods being bombed," he said through his two 23-year-old interpreters, Katya Bodnar and Elister Haievskyi, in his first interview in America. Bodnar and Haievskyi, also refugees, spent six weeks traveling to America from their homes on the western edge of Ukraine.
"Sad that in the 21st century someone can destroy such a beautiful country," he said.
Stanislavskyi believes his home remains intact but said his daughter's home has been bombed. His daughter, Tatiana Bogatyrenko, is currently living in Lublin, Poland.
Lobb coordinated Stanislavskyi's departure with help from about six other people spread across five countries. Stanislavskyi was driven from his home to the village of Slemence on the Ukrainian-Slovakian border, about an 815-mile journey that took three days. They arrived around March 8.
Lobb traveled from his home in the UK and met up with Stanislavskyi at the border. He booked Stanislavskyi, and an elderly lady they met, and who was also fleeing Ukraine, into a hotel before starting their six-hour drive to Tatiana's home.
Through it all, tennis always was on Stanislavskyi's mind.
World's oldest tennis player
Stanislavskyi started playing tennis in Kharkiv at the age of 30. Nearly 70 years later, he is officially recognized by the Guinness Book of World Records as being the world's oldest competitive player.
But it was not until eight years ago, when he turned 90, that he started on the ITF Super Seniors Tour and played his first competitive match.
Tired of playing against "kids" in their 80s — "Younger people are stronger and have more power," he said — Stanislavskyi suggested the ITF Super Seniors create a 90+ age group. The division first competed last year.
Tournament director Luis Baraldi said nine players 90 or older competed in the championships last week, including a 97-year-old from Chile.
Stanislavskyi turned 98 on March 22. One day later, he was on a tennis court in Lublin. The Lublin Tennis Club has been serving as a hub for Ukrainian tennis players, according to a publication in Poland.
After weeks of practice, Stanislavskyi and Lobb took a flight to Miami so he could compete in the Super Seniors event. Stanislavskyi had planned on making the trip even before his country was invaded and was determined to make that happen.
"I was like a lot of people in the world who felt angered about what was happening there, kind of helpless," Lobb said. "But realized kind of immediately I wasn't helpless because I could help him.
"I did it gladly because he's 98 and he's still living a life."
Chance meeting in coffee shop
Dan Lobb recently was sitting in Carmela Coffee Shop in Delray Beach when he overheard two people talking. He immediately knew by the accent these kids probably had a story to tell.
"You get to recognize Eastern European accents when you live in the UK," said Lobb, 50.
The voices belonged to Bodnar and Haievskyi. Lobb initiated a conversation, learned of their history, and asked if they would like to help at the tournament as interpreters for Stanislavskyi. Both agreed and accompanied Stanislavskyi to the tournament, translating every question and answer for what would be Stanislavskyi's first interview in America.
Besides studying English at school, both learned to speak the language through any means possible.
"I practiced and practiced," Katya said. "What I learn today I practice tomorrow, and what I learn tomorrow I practice the next day."
Bodnar and Haievskyi kept in touch after they left Ukraine but did not meet up until after their journey started. Bodnar was in Poland and Elister in Italy before they met in Austria and then traveled together to Belgium, Mexico (Cancun and Tijuana), San Diego and, finally, Florida.
But it was at the Tijuana border that their lives were changed. They knew no one and were frightened. They had a date to cross the border but nowhere to go. Desperate, they were reaching out to groups on Facebook
That's when Lisette Barton of Pompano Beach saw their post. Barton, a fourth-grade teacher at Plumosa School of the Arts in Delray Beach, has done missionary work and in March took a trip to Poland to help transport refugees and deliver donations that were packaged by her students.
Barton's original family name was Nazarovich, but was changed by her grandfather who built homes in Pittsburgh and could not get any business because of his last name. She believed her ancestors were from Ukraine but was not completely sure.
"I called my aunt in Pittsburgh and I said, 'Are we really, really Ukrainian?'" Barton, 51, said. "She said, 'Yes, 100% .' I said, 'OK, now I know where I'm going for spring break.' "
Barton already had a trip planned to Southern California for Easter weekend to help refugees at the border when she saw Bodnar and Haievskyi reach out on Facebook. She booked them into an Airbnb, arrived Friday, and by Monday they were on a plane with her to Fort Lauderdale.
First, though, they were baptized on Easter Sunday at Calvary Chapel in San Diego, with popular Christian music singer Jeremy Camp.
"It was so surreal," Barton said.
Bodnar and Haievskyi soon will be set up with an apartment in Fort Lauderdale.
"There's not one moment that they are not happy," Barton said. "Not a moment. They're very thankful, grateful, energetic kiddos. They are super-thankful to be here in America. They are such a joy and contagious to be around."
As for randomly meeting Lobb and now helping Stanislavskyi?
"It's like a movie," Barton said.
Appreciative of U.S. support
Stanislavskyi's game is played at the baseline. His overhead serve is accurate and most of his shots, whether from the backhand or forehand, float into play. The only time he showed frustration on the court Monday was when the wind got hold of one of his lobs and carried the ball out of bounds.
Each point was greeted with a cheer from the spectators.
Several times as he reached back to hit a ball over his head, he appeared to wobble. To those who have not seen him play, it looked as though he was about to take a tumble.
Lobb knows better.
"He never falls down," he said.
Haievskyi would greet Stanislavskyi during each break, helping him get to a chair. Stanislavskyi actually moves better on the court than he does walking to the sideline during breaks.
Once in the chair, Bodnar was beside him making sure he had everything he needed.
This repeated itself throughout the week as Stanislavskyi competed in mixed doubles and men's doubles after his singles match.
"I am so proud of him because he is Ukrainian and I am Ukrainian and I and my friend Elister can support him," Bodnar said. "For me, it's very important to play this role in his life."
Stanislavskyi's future residence is uncertain. His granddaughter, Olga Bogatyrenko, lives in Virginia, just outside of Washington, D.C. He will be visiting her and from there a decision will be made as to where he settles.
And if he remains in America, Stanislavskyi will appreciate every minute.
"This country is supporting Ukraine during the war," he said. "That's very important to me."
This article originally appeared on Palm Beach Post: Ukrainian refugee, world's oldest tennis player, competes in Florida
