THE STRUGGLE TO BE FREE

      Unlike most of his family, Alex's interest lay somewhere other than science. While his siblings Mikhail, Emmanuil and Raisa all chose to study math and physics, Alex chose music.
      At the age of 13, he moved to Leningrad - now St. Petersburg - to attend the state school for gifted children.
      He grew into adulthood there, eventually graduating from the conservatory and pursuing a career as principal viola with the Leningrad Symphony.
      It was in Leningrad that Alex met and married fellow musician Roza Mikulinsky. The two started a family and carried on with their lives.
      In Leningrad there was a large Jewish population, most of them tired of practicing their faith in secret.
      "Jewish people are passed over for jobs in Russia," Alex says. "They are treated like second-class citizens. It is not a good situation."
      Alex and Roza wanted to leave Russia. But getting out of the Soviet Union was not easy, especially considering his family's work on top-secret projects for the government.
      His first few attempts to leave the country were flatly denied.
      "They really did not need any reason to keep you," he says. "And if they said, 'No,' there was nothing you could do about it." Alex continued to search for opportunities to leave. In 1989, the door opened slightly.
      The Soviet Union was unstable and everyone in the country knew it. So when the government announced that Jews seeking to move to Israel could leave, Alex leaped at the chance.
      Though he intended to move to America, he saw this as a way out of the country. Once out, he would worry about getting into the United States. Although it took a while, their papers came and Alex began working on their departure.
      This required preparation. Those leaving the country were not allowed to take much with them. They could take clothes, some art and their books. That was about it.
      "We could only take what we could fit into two suitcases," he says. "That's not much."
      His plan was to move from Russia to Italy for a few months as other Russian emigrants had done. He would then petition the U.S. State Department to allow his family into the United States. Alex knew money would be tight, so he mailed non-perishables to Rome, intending to pick them up once in Italy.
      But one night, exhausted from his round-the-clock preparations, Alex left his papers at the post office.
      "This was serious," he says. "I had worked so hard to get us out and, poof, the papers were gone. There was no way they would give me another set. They would just say, 'Too bad.' "
      Alex went to the post office at 1 a.m. and begged to be let in. They told him to go away. He returned at 3 a.m. and begged again, this time attracting the attention of the security officer. Security officers were often retired from the KGB.
      "I was very scared," Alex says. "But I told him what happened and he asked me, 'What are you, stupid? How could you lose your papers?' "
      The security officer took pity on Alex and allowed him to search for his papers. He found them in the trash.

NEW YORK

      Alex, Roza and their two children, Mikhail and Eliza, arrived in New York on May 19, 1989.
      It was a frightening time in their lives. They gambled everything to move to the U.S. In Russia, their lives were stable. In America, they were simply immigrants.
      "Some people are scared of change, they are scared to leave their home," Roza says. "This is normal. But I was not scared. I knew that we had no life in Russia. That if we were to have a real life, a free life, it would be here."
      But immediately, Roza's faith was shaken. The Hebrew Immigration Aid Society set them up in a small New York apartment and gave the family a modest stipend. Alex's family shared the cramped space with several unwanted visitors.
      "We had roommates," she says. "Mice and roaches."
      Eventually, Alex found an apartment in Brooklyn and just eight months after their arrival, Roza auditioned for and won a seat on the Charleston Symphony Orchestra.
      They visited the city before moving. It was just after Hurricane Hugo and the area was a mess.
      But Roza accepted the job. The family moved to Charleston and began acclimating to life as Americans.
      "My worries left after I met the people," she says. "They were so nice, I knew we could make a home here."

SUKHUMI

      While Alex and his family adjusted to life in their new world, the rest of the Agrests watched as their world fell apart.
      His brother Mikhail, a physicist, was teaching at the Academy of Science in St. Petersburg and experiencing the destabilization as the Soviet Union collapsed.
      While in Sukhumi, Alex's oldest brother, Emmanuil, watched as a civil war between Georgia and Abkhazia threatened their welfare.
      Emmanuil was 5 when the family moved to Sukhumi. It was true the Agrests had few options at the time, but they grew to love the city.
      Sukhumi was the capital of Abkhazia. The country, a tropical resort on the Black Sea, was home to a mix of peoples, including Greeks who founded the city in 6 B.C., Estonians, Georgians, Abkhazians, Armenians and Jews. Though ethnically different, these people formed a tight-knit community.
      But in the early '90s, with the Soviet Union falling apart, Georgia tried to take over Abkhazia. The resulting tensions erupted into war in 1992.
      "It is a simple story," Emmanuil says. "A war over land."
      Emmanuil worked as a mathematician at the Institute of Acoustic Science and taught at Abkhazian State University. His father, wife and sister also worked as mathematicians and physicists at research laboratories in the city.
      They did not make much money. No one did in Russia. But they had a comfortable existence. All of this was thrown in doubt when the war came to their small home.
      One day, Emmanuil took his son, Yan, and niece, Inga, into the city. His wife, Larisa, was supposed to join them after running errands.
      After a few hours, Larisa's absence worried Emmanuil. When he went to check on her, he found the Georgian army on one side of the Bessledka River and Abkhazian army on the other. The war's front lines had been drawn between him and his wife.
      "I will never forget the sound of those tanks rumbling by our apartment," Larisa says. "I was so scared. I had only seen tanks in movies."
      The tension subsided for a few days and then returned violently, this time with Georgians riding through town on tanks, shooting everything in sight.
      "I ran into the hall and waited for the bullets to stop," Larisa says. "They shot out our windows."
      Then the bombing started.
      "The bombs went right over our house," he says. "It happened so much we got used to it."
      There were crimes committed, violations of basic human rights. People were thrown in jail for little or no reason. And beautiful Sukhumi was nearly razed.
      "The university where I worked was badly vandalized," Emmanuil says. "Houses were burned, roofs blown off. In those circumstances people show the worst side of themselves."
      For two years, Emmanuil worked to get the rest of the Agrests out of the country. In 1992, with the war raging, the papers came through. The only problem was they were on the other side of the front line.
      As luck would have it, Georgia made a deal with Israel to allow Jews in the region to leave. So Emmanuil was allowed through the lines to pick up the paperwork.
      "Finally, it paid to be a Jew," he says.
      Meanwhile, in Charleston, Alex scrambled to find the money for tickets that would bring his entire family here. With the help of local friends he raised $4,000 in one day.
      "It was very tight," he says. "We had a small window of opportunity to get them out of the country."
      On Sept. 22 1992, 15 members of the Agrest family arrived in Charleston. The family was together again at last.

CHARLESTON

      These days you can't avoid the Agrests.
      They are everywhere. Twenty-two members of the family call the city home. Despite their humble arrival, they're all doing quite well.
      Alex and Roza play for the Charleston Symphony Orchestra. Their children have moved on. Eliza is getting her biology degree at Brandeis University. Mikhail (Alex's son) is a noted conductor working with the Kirov-Mariinsky Opera and Ballet Theatre in St. Petersburg.
      Mikhail is a physics professor at the College of Charleston. His wife, Marina, teaches music at the Creative Spark art center in Mount Pleasant.
      Their children have also moved on. Inga is a graduate student at the University of South Carolina. Their son, Arkady, is a musician with the Winston-Salem Symphony Orchestra.
      Emmanuil is a mathematics professor at Johnson & Wales University.
      Larisa is a local cosmetologist and massage therapist. Their son, Igor, is a computer engineer at the Medical University of South Carolina.
      Yan, their other son, is co-owner of Masters Studios of Self Defense, a franchise of karate studios in the area.
      Raisa works for the city of Charleston. Her daughter, Susan, is a graduate student at C of C.
      Mates and his wife, Riva, are retired.
      There are others here in America, cousins and nephews, nieces and aunts. They have joined the fabric of life in this country and made it their own. No longer do they hide. No longer do they bury their faith. No longer are they afraid to be themselves.
      "Yes, we are all over the place," Mikhail says. "But we are invigorated. That's what this country does to you. So we stay busy, busy trying to share our experiences with people. That makes us happy."