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Sports are supposed to be separate from politics, but athletes and games can't always be kept separate from life and death.

Scores of people were killed in Ukraine this week, as the security forces of President Viktor Yanukovich opened fire on anti-government protesters in Kiev's Maidan, now called Independence Square.

While some 800 miles away, more than 40 Ukrainian athletes have been skiing, skating, working hard to win medals at the Winter Olympic Games in Sochi, Russia.

The team, coaches and officials held a minute of silence on Thursday for those who died, and added black ribbons to Ukrainian flags hanging on their balconies at the athletes' village.

One of Ukraine's skiers decided that she just couldn't keep competing at the games while blood was being shed in the streets of her country. Bogdana Matsotska, who is a 24-year-old alpine skier, chose not to compete in the slalom race on Friday. She has been training for that race, in many ways, for most of her life, and it's her best event.

There are "horrible events that are happening in the capital of my Ukraine, in the Maidan (square)," she told Reuters Television on Thursday.

"My friends are there at the Maidan, people I know, close friends of mine," she said. "To go on the start line when people are dying and when the authorities broke the main rule of the Olympic competition, which is peace — I simply cannot do it.

"I am not a political person, I am totally out of politics and political parties, but I stand against these horrible actions thatYanukovychand his government are taking against our Ukrainian people."

The young skier said, "I don't want to enter the competition under such terrible circumstances."

Do black ribbons and bowing out of a ski race change what happens in Kiev? History might tell us that such gestures have about as much — or as little — effect as strong condemnations of Ukraine's government from various world leaders or human rights organizations.

But the young men and women on Ukraine's Olympic team may one day be asked, by the next generations of athletes and by their own children, "What did you do when people were killed in Independence Square?"

With her gesture and actions, Bogdana Matsotska has represented, in life as well as games, the nation whose name she wears on her uniform, and over her heart.

Sports are supposed to be separate from politics, but athletes and games can't always be kept separate from life and death.

Scores of people were killed in Ukraine this week, as the security forces of President Viktor Yanukovich opened fire on anti-government protesters in Kiev's Maidan, now called Independence Square.

While some 800 miles away, more than 40 Ukrainian athletes have been skiing, skating, working hard to win medals at the Winter Olympic Games in Sochi, Russia.

The team, coaches and officials held a minute of silence on Thursday for those who died, and added black ribbons to Ukrainian flags hanging on their balconies at the athletes' village.

One of Ukraine's skiers decided that she just couldn't keep competing at the games while blood was being shed in the streets of her country. Bogdana Matsotska, who is a 24-year-old alpine skier, chose not to compete in the slalom race on Friday. She has been training for that race, in many ways, for most of her life, and it's her best event.

There are "horrible events that are happening in the capital of my Ukraine, in the Maidan (square)," she told Reuters Television on Thursday.

"My friends are there at the Maidan, people I know, close friends of mine," she said. "To go on the start line when people are dying and when the authorities broke the main rule of the Olympic competition, which is peace — I simply cannot do it.

"I am not a political person, I am totally out of politics and political parties, but I stand against these horrible actions thatYanukovychand his government are taking against our Ukrainian people."

The young skier said, "I don't want to enter the competition under such terrible circumstances."

Do black ribbons and bowing out of a ski race change what happens in Kiev? History might tell us that such gestures have about as much — or as little — effect as strong condemnations of Ukraine's government from various world leaders or human rights organizations.

But the young men and women on Ukraine's Olympic team may one day be asked, by the next generations of athletes and by their own children, "What did you do when people were killed in Independence Square?"

With her gesture and actions, Bogdana Matsotska has represented, in life as well as games, the nation whose name she wears on her uniform, and over her heart.

A Wisconsin court has released an enormous number of emails — 27,000 pages — from a former aide to Gov. Scott Walker.

Kelly Rindfleisch was convicted last year of using her government job to do illegal campaign work. At the time, Walker was the Milwaukee County executive.

The emails paint a picture of constant coordination between Walker's county office and his 2010 gubernatorial campaign. They were made public in the middle of Walker's gubernatorial re-election campaign, and at a time when the governor is considered a presidential hopeful for 2016.

Rindfleisch was deputy chief of staff in Milwaukee County and sat at a desk down the hall from Walker. In email after email from 2010, Rindfleisch was raising money for the Walker campaign's favored lieutenant governor candidate, Brett Davis. In between, she'd do background research for Walker's campaign, taking direction from his campaign manager.

Rindfleisch is appealing her conviction. She was sentenced to six months in prison and three years' probation.

Walker was not charged with any wrongdoing. The investigation closed last year, and in the end, six of his former aides and associates were convicted.

For a couple of years now, Wisconsin Democrats have hammered Walker because of Rindfleisch. With Walker's star rising in the Republican Party, Democratic National Committee Chairwoman Debbie Wasserman Schultz jumped into the fray Wednesday.

"As scandals continue to unfold in front of him, they beg more questions than I'm sure the governor would like to answer," Wasserman Schultz says.

In one of the emails, another top Walker aide welcomes Rindfleisch to the "inner circle," telling Rindfleisch she often uses her own personal email account to contact Walker.

After another county worker in Walker's office was found to be using her government job to post on political websites, Walker himself expressed concern, emailing that "we cannot afford another story like this one," telling top county aides "that means no laptops, no websites, no time away during the work day, etc."

In a conference call with reporters, Wisconsin Democratic Party Chairman Mike Tate said the emails put Walker in the company of another GOP governor who is getting lots of attention lately.

"Much like Chris Christie, Scott Walker likes to stand in the middle of people committing criminal activity all around him and saying 'I had no idea what was going on. All these people were breaking the law, but I was unaware of it, I wasn't directing it.' It's sort of like see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. It's just a little hard to believe that Scott Walker was totally unaware that his senior staff was breaking the law on a regular basis," Tate says.

Larry Sabato with the University of Virginia's Center for Politics says that as Walker emerges as a possible establishment Republican candidate for president, these emails will undoubtedly lead to more scrutiny.

"If you're asking me, 'Will there be a lot more coverage of this?' the answer is absolutely yes, particularly if Walker does run for president," he says.

But Sabato doesn't buy the Christie-Walker connection.

"This is no Bridgegate. It's not even vaguely equivalent," he says.

Marquette University Pollster Charles Franklin says people already knew about the Reindfleisch investigation during Walker's recall election. He says prosecutors knew about these emails, too.

"The issue raised a lot of questions but ultimately was resolved with staff members, not including charges against the governor," Franklin says.

That's not to say this is a settled issue. Prosecutors in five Wisconsin counties have launched a second John Doe investigation involving work done by several conservative groups during the recall campaign. Whether this involves Walker personally is not known, though his campaign continues to spend money on lawyers and he won't discuss the probe.

"As I've said before, we're not getting into details about this process until it's completed," Walker told the media.

Meanwhile, Walker's backers kicked his 2014 campaign into high gear ahead of the release of the emails. The Republican Governors Association this week began running a TV ad attacking his Democratic opponent Mary Burke, who so far has kept silent on the emails — letting other Democrats take the first swings.

The governor also kept a low-key public schedule Wednesday. The man who likes to brand himself as a forward-looking politician is incessantly being asked about his past.

Leo, Nick and Steven Argel are 14-year-old triplets, and they've all been blind since birth.

Growing up in Arlington, Va., their single mother had a hard time caring for them.

"Every day was like: Wake up, go to school, come back home, and then you stay there for the rest of the day," Leo recalls in a visit to StoryCorps. "There were certain things that I wish I could do, like I wish I could go out and play in the snow like everyone else. 'Cause I've heard kids through the window — we could hear that they were having fun. The only thing I remember, when I was 7, we went to McDonald's and we went to the park. We rarely went outside."

Nick says it got so bad he wanted to die. "But it was one of the decisions I'm glad I did not make because I would have missed out on everything."

That all changed when they were 10. Ollie Cantos, a blind man in their community, got word of their situation and knocked on their door. He's now in the process of formally adopting the brothers.

At first, the brothers didn't believe Cantos was blind, so he demonstrated that he could read braille.

"It just made me feel like I had a person that I could trust," Nick says. "Because I didn't trust anyone."

Cantos, like the brothers, had a hard time growing up. He says he didn't have any friends, and people made fun of him.

He taught the brothers how to use their canes better by taking them to the corner store. One day, the store clerk asked Cantos if Leo was his son. Before Cantos could answer, Leo put his arm around him and said, "Yeah, that's my dad."

As Cantos remembers it, Leo said, "Well, you take us places, you protect us, you help us with our homework and make us happy. Sounds like a dad to me."

"Whenever I hear you call me 'Dad,' " Cantos tells the three brothers, "it's the highest compliment to me. You three used to be in the same situation that I was, and to see you come out of that and to be the way you guys are now, it's impossible to describe how grateful I am that I get to be your dad."

Audio produced for Morning Edition by Jasmyn Belcher.