It's eight o'clock at night on January 27, 2018. Holocaust Remembrance Day. I've been thinking about what to write.
In high school, I loved reading "The Diary of Anne Frank." But don't think it taught me anything about the Holocaust. It's mostly about the lives of two Jewish families and a married dentist in
hiding living in very small quarters. Extraordinarily horrible circumstances that also demonstrated normal life. A young sensitive teenager, going through all the same things one not in hiding would. Falling in love, disagreements with her parents, hopes, dreams, and goals. Struggling to understand who she is independent of her family and to stand as her own person, with her own point of view, likes, dislikes, and opinions. But then it ended. There's an afterword that explains what happened. Everyone was taken to Auschwitz, and Anne and her sister Margot were
The first Gulf war started. Iraq had bombed Israel (luckily, skud missiles destroyed most) and there was talk about whether Israel should retaliate or not. My sister knew someone deployed and was apprehensive. And my Mom took it as an educational moment. She
has very strong opinions - and she was pro-Israel. She not only believed that Israel had a right to exist, but that they were in their rightful place, as God intended, and that they were God's Chosen. If Israel needed to retaliate, then they should do it. She bought us each copies of "Exodus" by Leon Uris and "The Source" by James Michener.
"Exodus" dealt with a rickety boat full of Jewish refugee children that is stopped by what was then Palestine and refused entry, how
I found it all fascinating and was hooked. Leon Uris had more books, and I found two more historical fiction series written by Bodie and Brock Thoene (The Zion Chronicles and the Zion Covenant). I admired their resilience and tried to figure out why
they were targets of such hatred and violence. To do that, I have to figure out how another human being could be so full of hatred and violence.
The Holocaust hit home and hit me in the face when I met Harry in 2005. He was a survivor Auschwitz. A person can spend their time
reading and reading about something but until they are confronted with it in real life, it does not have any scope at all.
When Harry's family was being transported to Auschwitz, his father managed to push him out of the car to give him freedom. He
joined the Polish Resistance, itself anti-Semitic. The Nazis caught him, and once again he found himself on a train to Auschwitz. After the camp was liberated, he found out that his entire family had been murdered.
He moved to Israel and got married. He worked at putting up wallpaper. Since everyone in Israel had to serve in the army, I can assume he did too. I never really asked. He was proud to have been a part of the building of a country.
Harry wanted to tell his story. He probably needed it. I imagine it was a shadow over his soul every day he lived. Even while he was
helping to build a homeland, and getting married, and through the birth of his daughter (who worked in Jerusalem.) He wasn't afraid to talk about what he went through.
That was 17-years ago. We lost track of one another. Something I regret. But I never stopped thinking about him and the child he once was who lived because his dad pushed him out of a train car.
And I won't ever stop thinking about him.
The Survivors of the Holocaust are growing old and soon there won't be anyone to directly speak to people of those atrocities. It will be up to their children and grandchildren - up to EVERYONE to make sure that the Holocaust is NEVER forgotten.
It isn't pretty. There are no winners. Everybody who survived lost their family and friends. They saw people poisoned and were
videos are graphic. But they need to be seen. There are archives where people were videotaped telling their nightmares. This was all done because what they have to say is too important to be silenced.
And there is more that can be done for every man, woman, and child who entered the gates of a concentration camp, forced into vans to be gassed or were forced to dig their own graves...
We can refuse to stand by as others are discriminated against. We can stop tolerating world leaders...OUR LEADER...from dehumanizing minorities. We can demand that those who are sexual predators be held accountable as one. We can choose to speak out and NEVER FORGET. Nor should we allow the guilty to forget.
























































