fureverywhere
beloved friend who will always be with us in spiri
- Location
- Northern NJ, USA
Wow, how things can come back to you. I just finished reading a book I had picked up called "Tell Them We Remember". It was put out by the Holocaust Museum in Washington, maybe targeted at Jr. High reading level but very well done. But it brought back when I went there in 2001. First some backstory...I went back to college in my early forties. A bit fuzzy about those years, had five kids home and was working full time besides, yeah it's a blur. Know I did good and got a bunch of scholarships.
Anyways, World History was a course taught by a prof with a heavy German accent. I remember one day he announced in a few weeks we would have a field trip. I remember raising my hand for the last question of the day. I had a nursing baby who couldn't go a full day without nummies, could I bring her? He said of course if she didn't scream all the way to Washington. We left class that day and oddly the lots were full of exiting traffic. I remember the TV being on in the student center but I didn't look at the screen that had everyone's attention.
It was time to feed the baby and my shirt was soaked. So out to the lots and asking a stranger what was going on. He said they had bombed New York and Washington...shirt getting wetter and two hours of traffic to home. I did finally get there to feed the baby. We all know what else happened that day. So now three weeks later and it was time for our trip. Three weeks after September 11th...I had a diaper bag stuffed in my backpack. Every nappie, every nose tissue, it took half an hour to clear security and just as long to put it all back together.
If you haven't been there, the museum tour starts on the top floor. Everyone is given a passport. The image and description is the story of an individual German Jew, you will read their story as you descend down the different floors. The displays...you can imagine what just the silence does to you, chilling as an extreme understatement. Oh and our professor giving us amusing sidelights in a heavy German accent. I imagine some people leave this place in tears or manic, possibly both...it's that intense.
On the ground level the last display is "Remembering the Children". A hallway of tiles created by US school kids nationwide with messages and drawings. At this point before you turn in your passport and find out if the subject of your tour survived the war. Then you walk out into sunlight drained. You know my reading material on the bus trip home? The new Rolling Stone with them carrying Father Judge on the cover, and a baby nursing in my arms. Definitely a trip I will never forget. I would tell everyone to go there at least once in their life.
All those memories from a school age text...I'm donating it to a library with a major Jewish population, an important book in any case.
Anyways, World History was a course taught by a prof with a heavy German accent. I remember one day he announced in a few weeks we would have a field trip. I remember raising my hand for the last question of the day. I had a nursing baby who couldn't go a full day without nummies, could I bring her? He said of course if she didn't scream all the way to Washington. We left class that day and oddly the lots were full of exiting traffic. I remember the TV being on in the student center but I didn't look at the screen that had everyone's attention.
It was time to feed the baby and my shirt was soaked. So out to the lots and asking a stranger what was going on. He said they had bombed New York and Washington...shirt getting wetter and two hours of traffic to home. I did finally get there to feed the baby. We all know what else happened that day. So now three weeks later and it was time for our trip. Three weeks after September 11th...I had a diaper bag stuffed in my backpack. Every nappie, every nose tissue, it took half an hour to clear security and just as long to put it all back together.
If you haven't been there, the museum tour starts on the top floor. Everyone is given a passport. The image and description is the story of an individual German Jew, you will read their story as you descend down the different floors. The displays...you can imagine what just the silence does to you, chilling as an extreme understatement. Oh and our professor giving us amusing sidelights in a heavy German accent. I imagine some people leave this place in tears or manic, possibly both...it's that intense.
On the ground level the last display is "Remembering the Children". A hallway of tiles created by US school kids nationwide with messages and drawings. At this point before you turn in your passport and find out if the subject of your tour survived the war. Then you walk out into sunlight drained. You know my reading material on the bus trip home? The new Rolling Stone with them carrying Father Judge on the cover, and a baby nursing in my arms. Definitely a trip I will never forget. I would tell everyone to go there at least once in their life.
All those memories from a school age text...I'm donating it to a library with a major Jewish population, an important book in any case.