Ilya Safro

FARRAGUT - Ilya Safro, age 86 of Knoxville, passed away at home on May 9, 2024 after a long illness with his loving family by his side. Ilya was born on October 18, 1937, in what was then called Leningrad, Russia and immigrated to the United States in

1977. His father, Nahman Safro, was a civil engineer and his mother, Ginda Katz, was a bookkeeper and homemaker. Ilya was a civil engineer who worked for many years at engineering firms designing power plants in Louisiana, Texas, and Tennessee. While in

New Orleans, Ilya met his wife Bella Ioselev Safro, who also immigrated from the former Soviet Union.

Ilya was an active member of Temple Beth El and taught himself Hebrew to read the holy texts. Ilya was a loving husband, father, brother, cousin, and faithful and generous friend. He had a kind and gracious soul and a quiet sense of humor. Ilya loved to build, read, play chess, and travel. He treasured his family, which included aunts, uncles, cousins, and their children. Having lost his grandparents during the Nazi occupation in Belarus, Ilya became an advocate of Holocaust Remembrance.

Ilya is survived by his loving wife of 44 years, Bella, daughter Michelle and her husband Matthew Smith, brothers-in-law Arkady and Boris Ioselev, and many beloved cousins in Florida, Minnesota, New York, Washington State, Israel, and Russia. He is preceded in death by his parents and sister Liliya. In remembrance of Ilya’s life, the family asks that any charitable donations be made to Temple Beth El of Knoxville, Tennessee or to Yad Vashem in Israel. A memorial service will be held at 2:00pm on Wednesday, May 15, 2024, at Temple Beth-El, 3037 Kingston Pike, Knoxville, Tennessee.

The above represent the broadest of biographical facts. Here are a few impressions from his daughter:

Ilya was a human man

And also a husband and brother and dad,

A lover of meats and ice cream and fruit

And art and music and Hebrew and soup

And quiet and order and ordering quiet

And doing small jobs like mowing the lawn

And math in the kitchen and books in the evening And making an omelet when we were all gone.

86 years and 86 lives,

St. Petersburg born and New Orleans wived. Drove miles to work to build something or other (“designs power plants,” we told one another). Joked his blood was “blue Russian” and that he was mad, Every chess game we played was a chess game he won, Every animal met was a friend to be had

And he sometimes made omelets when we were all gone. Took care of his sister when she got too ill, Taught his daughter to ice skate and timely pay bills And ride bikes and drive cars and handle a knife; Kept his own cups and spoons, shared the rest with his wife. His things were his things but his heart was for all,

It wasn’t for him he kept mowing that lawn.

In the end he kept asking, “has my daughter called?” And now we make omelets and now he is gone.