By: Thomas Ralston
The trip to Auschwitz on Friday was truly transforming. I was amazed by the enormity of the space. As our group traveled through the entrance and into and through the camp, I kept looking back towards where we had been. Avi had told us that Auschwitz was like a city, and it really was.
I found myself wanting to be as close to Howard as I could get as he retraced steps he had walked some seventy years ago. Much like hearing his thoughts walking through his hometown, I just knew that him sharing his experience at Birkenau was going to be powerful. His strength in sharing his story was incredible. As we listened to his first-hand account of his time at Auschwitz, I couldn’t help but notice how engaged everyone was. Even total strangers who came into the barracks stopped and listened to Howard. It was as if they knew that they were in the presence of something unique and special. He may be short in stature, but he is a giant of strength and resiliency. Looking into his eyes reveals a brightness that is an indomitable spirit.
I have read many accounts of prisoners of their harrowing time in the transport cars, but seeing it for the first time really made an impression on me. One hundred people in a space that looked like it could only accommodate 25 or 30. They suffered so much.
I felt that the guided tour through the Auschwitz I facility was very well done. I was overcome with emotions as we walked through the building that housed the personal evidence. In particular, the room with the collection of shoes hit me very hard. Ordinary people had their humanity stripped away, And, as another slap in the face, their possessions were taken and given to others or used to help with the war effort. The Nazis had perfected the art of fully taking advantage of another people. In the hallway with the pictures of those sent to Auschwitz, I picked out a son and father. The father’s picture projected an anger that was penetrating, but the son’s photo displayed an innocent melancholy that was truly heart-breaking.
As I close, I come back to the word ‘enormity’. The space, the pile of shoes, eye glasses, the book of the dead, the faces on the walls, the pain. I will never forget this place. I feel honored to have been given to the opportunity to experience Holocaust history personally. I now feel a responsibility to share with others the message: as citizens of the world we all must do what we can to make sure that our world is a place where everyone has a sense of belonging, kindness, and appreciation for the differences of others.