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The mother of a friend of ours in Nantes survived the Lodz ghetto (although neither her husband or child did) and was sent to Auschwitz where she stayed until the end of the war when she went to Paris as a refugee. She had a relationship (I believe they married) and she had one
child, our friend Raymond.
Several years ago, before we moved to Chinon, we had dinner with Raymond and his wife at their house, as we did occasionally. On this night, his mother was there visiting. She sat at the head of the table.
All throughout the meal, from starter
Several years ago, before we moved to Chinon, we had dinner with Raymond and his wife at their house, as we did occasionally. On this night, his mother was there visiting. She sat at the head of the table.
All throughout the meal, from starter
through main course through salad and cheese and finally through dessert, this poor woman, in her late 80s, I believe, spoke to herself in a low voice - although loud enough that we could hear - but she spoke to herself, a monologue, as if explaining to someone - what she lived
that day apparently (to me) that day she arrived at Auschwitz. She lived that day over and over again. She ate and spoke, spoke and ate, and lived that day, the train, the arrival, being forced to undress, huddled together with a crowd of women, being prodded and checked and
all through that long meal my friend's mother relived that day over and over again all those decades later. According to Raymond, this was fairly common. He kept trying to call her back to the present.
She lived a horrifying experience, one which she then lived over and over
She lived a horrifying experience, one which she then lived over and over
again, every single day of her life.
My own family were Russian Jews so I know of none that were in concentration camps but this family in the photo is my great-grandpa's sister Zishe & her family. They were all lined up alongside a trench with many others, shot & buried.
Too
My own family were Russian Jews so I know of none that were in concentration camps but this family in the photo is my great-grandpa's sister Zishe & her family. They were all lined up alongside a trench with many others, shot & buried.
Too
many of us have these stories.
If the next generation is not learning about the Holocaust, about the millions of men, women, and children, Jews and so many others, that were shut in work camps or just killed, because of who they were then we are surely doomed to repeat it.
If the next generation is not learning about the Holocaust, about the millions of men, women, and children, Jews and so many others, that were shut in work camps or just killed, because of who they were then we are surely doomed to repeat it.
“Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed....Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget these
things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never.”
― Elie Wiesel, Night
― Elie Wiesel, Night
