How to sum it all up. . . . . .

Well, it’s all over except for the flight home from Jersey.  Last night we met together for a very nice dinner and an opportunity to say goodbye.  Some groups did little songs and skits.  They were very creative and very funny.

I took the opportunity to tell Elaine how I saw my being given her family stories a “trust,” and how I would tell those stories to my students.  She gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek.  I told her to hug her mother for me – I really feel like I know her through Elaine’s stories.

Elaine and Steve

Others also spoke and we all hugged, and said our good-byes.  It was a good, but somewhat difficult evening.  We’ve spent a lot of time together over the last three weeks and we have been through some seriously intense stuff.  It will be strange to be without the “crew” for a while.

The "5 Horsemen of the Apocalypse" as I called them - the young crew.  Lots of fun, and a little bit rowdy.  :)

I have a couple of jobs now.  First, to further process what I’ve learned and seen.  I need to have some time in order to make sense of all of this so I can incorporate it into my classes.  

Second, to create talks, presentations, etc. in order to deliver what I’ve learned to others who are interested.  The biggest problem with these two tasks is that I’ve learned so much.  And, a lot of what I’ve learned is personal testimony and spiritual insights. 

One of my biggest concerns is what I will say when people ask me, “How was it?”  I don’t have a clue how to respond.  How do you sum up 3 weeks of intensive study and travel associated with the Holocaust?  It has changed me forever.  I’ll have to see if I can come up with a quick little response that will capture the basic ideas.    Good luck with that one!   J

I hope in the future to continue to travel and have these types of experiences.  If so, I’ll continue the journal and the blog.

Until then - Auf Wiedersehen!

Treblinka

Today is the last day of this amazing experience before we begin the long journey home.  It’s been great, educational, fun at times, somber at other, and overall – the professional trip of a lifetime.   But, it’s time to go home and be with my family again.

We have two big events on the schedule for today – this morning we went to Treblinka (another killing center) and then this evening we have our final dinner and say our goodbyes. 

Our bus ride to Treblinka (about 2 hours outside Warsaw) was typical for our Polish bus rides – sudden stops that throw us into the seat in front of us, sudden accelerations that throw us against the backs of our seats and constant weaving in and out of traffic.  Sometimes we really miss our Israeli bus driver Bennie. 

We finally arrived at Treblinka and like two other killing centers of Operation Reinhard, they were out in the middle of nowhere.  The only thing linking them to the rest of Poland was a railroad line. 

Path through the forest where the train tracks once were

We first went into a little house which stood on that site during the war, where they had built a very nice little museum with a model of the camp under glass.  Since nothing remains of the original camp, it was interesting to see what it looked like and how it was set up.

When we left the museum it was raining again, pretty softly at first,  but when we arrived at the open area of the camp (just a large clearing in the trees now, with the memorial) it really began blowing.  They have had several tornadoes in the area in the last few days – we saw dozens of trees broken off and uprooted on the trip here.  How fitting to see the traditional Jewish symbol of a life cut short – a broken tree – on our way to Treblinka.

This camp was another very small camp that did a very deadly business.  Over 800,000 people were murdered in this camp in less than 18 months.  The camp was carved out of the forest and like Mjdanek, very small. 

There was a small work camp nearby, but this camp was nothing but a killing center.  The people were taken off the trains, marched into the camp where they set down all their belongings.  They were then beaten and herded through the “Road to Heaven” (the not-so-humorous Germans called it), a long, narrow chute, for lack of a better word, which ended up at the gas chamber.  The building had a Star of David on the front and was called the “Place of David.”  Yet another counterfeit, another deception by the Nazis to control their victims until they could do nothing to resist.

Model of the camp showing the "chute" through which the prisoners were herded, with the gas chamber building and "the grill" behond.

Here the Jews thought they had arrived to work.  Unfortunately, they were killed in several gas chambers that used carbon monoxide from an old Soviet tank engine. 

The bodies were then pulled out and cremated on “the grill”(a series of large metal rods about 100 feet long).  The ashes were dumped into huge pits that had been dug by steam shovel.  The only photographs from Treblinka are of the construction, the digging of those pits, and of the SS area. 

Digging the mass graves

The camp was eventually shut down in 1943, the buildings were destroyed, and a farm planted on the site.  A Ukrainian family was sent to live there to pretend it was a “normal” farm. 

Word had gotten out, but most could not believe it.  There is one picture that exists of smoke rising from the forest in the area.  That would be the smoke from cremating bodies on “the grill.”

The memorial today is a series of huge concrete slabs that cover the mass graves of the victims.  Each slab has large stones placed on it reminiscent of the Jewish tradition of placing a stone on the gravestone of a loved one when you visit a cemetery. 

Panoramic view of one of the memorials over one of the mass graves

Janusz Korczak (the man who ran an orphanage in Warsaw and went with the children to the gas chamber) and the children of his orphanage were killed here.  There is an inscription on one of the stones commemorating him and the children.

There is also a large pillar in the middle of the camp where we lit candles in memory of those who died.  Some in our group read stories and poems written by survivors and victims.  I was doing OK – somber, but OK – at that point.  Then Elaine begins reading a letter that a mother and a father wrote to their daughter.  They had given her to a Gentile family to raise as their own so she could survive.  They wrote this letter for her to read when she was old enough to understand what had happened to her parents. 

Another mass grave with a memorial above and pillar

It was heartbreaking.  It was also very close-to-home for me.  I write a letter to each of my children when they graduate from High School.  I have written two letters and have two more to go.  In these letters I tell them how much I love them and how proud I am of them.  I explain my faith and encourage them as they continue to develop and expand their faith.  I encourage them to be better than I was, or better than I am.  I give them little bits of counsel so they can learn from someone who has made many mistakes.

When they are out at their all-night graduation party I place those letters on their pillows to find when they get home.  I don’t know if they keep them or if they read them more than once – that is up to them.  For me, it is important that I write them.  Some things need to be said – at least once – and not just assumed or “hinted at.”  These letters are a collection of the things that I believe need to be said. 

As I listened to the portion of the letter written by the mother, I was a wreck.  When Elaine began the part written by the father, I lost it.  I couldn’t hear any more and quietly walked back several yards into the rain.

I wondered later, what kind of letter would I write to my children if I was going to die rather than on the occasion of their graduation from high school?  I decided I would write exactly the same letter.  These are the things that are the most important to me so I don’t think there would be anything to change. 

After Elaine’s reading, Jason asked if he could sing Kaddish for the victims.  We have read the Jewish prayer for the dead before, but this time Jason, a Jewish man with his kippa on his head, sang the prayer.  It was beautiful, it was tender, it was the best memorial I could ever hope to see on such a site as this. 

lighting candles at the memorial

Needless to say, I was a mess and hung back so as to walk alone on the way to the bus.  All I could think of was, “That’s it, I’m done.”  I don’t think I could handle any more experiences like for a while.  On the bus I wrote down some things I wanted to remember and then I zoned out. 

I never thought I could personalize and internalize these events to the extent that I have.  I credit Elaine and her stories, her family history, her readings for doing this for me.  I’m much more like Steven – all facts and figures – so to have the human side so tangible, so palpable, I think it’s changed me forever.  I didn’t expect that. 

I came here expecting to learn in the manner in which I usually learn academic matters and am leaving having learned the way I learn a spiritual matters.  Each day has been a spiritual journey that I will miss, even though I think I need to get away from it for a while. 

I think I’ll rest a bit before dinner and our “closing social” if I can call it that.  More info on that later. . . . .

Lodz Ghetto

We’re getting close to the end of the trip now.  This morning we set off early on our bus trip – first to Lodz (pronounced Wudge) to see the remnants of the ghetto and the memorial – then on to Warsaw where we will be staying the last two nights of the trip.

A young man from Rexburg, Jordan Berry, is on a mission to Poland and I emailed him to let him know where I’d be and when.  He emailed back saying he is in Lodz which disappointed me greatly since we were scheduled to be there for only a few hours to see the remains of the ghetto and the memorial. 

But, as we entered the city I told by friends on the bus to keep an eye out for any two young men in dark slacks, white shirts, and backpacks.  As we were driving through the main street into the city, Jeremy and Kerry on the other side of the bus motioned out the window.  Sure enough – two young men in dark slacks, white shirts, and backpacks.  I almost broke something jumping out of my seat to look out their windows to see if one of them was Jordan, but as far as I could tell, neither one of them was Jordan.

I was a little bummed out, but wondered what I would have done if it was Jordan.  I guess I would have interrupted our tour guide by screaming, “Pull Over!” and then running over to say “Hi.”  It would have been great.

I kept my eyes open for any more missionaries, but since the Lodz ghetto was situated in the poorest, roughest neighborhood of the city, the odds were against me – and I didn’t see any other Elders. 

The memorial at Lodz was pretty powerful. It consists of the actual railroad station where the Jews were deported and sent to a concentration camp or killing center.  They even have authentic railroad cars from the time.  I walked into one and it was pretty creepy.  I’ve been through the one at the Holocaust Memorial Museum many times, but that one is just a “period piece,” not one that was actually used.  This one was authentic. 

There is also a nice memorial with the names of the concentration camps and killing centers where those Jews were deported.  The city of Vienna has a very nice memorial plaque on the wall where they express their “shame” in what happened to the Jews of Austria.  I found this very interesting – rather than simply blame the Nazi government and express sorrow, they expressed shame.  They were acknowledging the role of collaborators in their own city and their own government.  The Nazis couldn’t have done what they did without willing collaborators.

There was also a long concrete tunnel which was curved.  Unfortunately, we couldn’t go in because for some reason it was closed today.  I was told that it was the museum and had information on the occupation and the ghetto from 1939-1945. 

The tunnel was curved so you couldn’t see the light at the end, but as you progressed through the tunnel, you could see a little more, then a little more.  At the end of the tunnel is a room with a large pillar above.  This symbolizes a couple of things – first the smokestacks at the crematorium which was the last stop for millions of Jews.  Second, the pillar looks as if it is broken off half-way up.  This is a common theme in Jewish graveyards for the markers of people who died young – a life cut short.  They often depict trees that are broken off.  We saw this theme over and over in different memorials to the murdered Jews of Europe.

That room at the end also has the names of many of the people who were deported from this train station.  But, as it was closed today, we could only look from the outside.

We were also told a story about an event that happened in an open are of the Ghetto that is now a park.  The leader of the Judenrat did everything he could to keep the ghetto in existence – knowing that as long as they were in the ghetto, they weren’t going to the gas chambers of Treblinka and other death camps.  He even went as far as to ask the Jewish parents to allow their children to be deported so the Germans would see that everyone in the ghetto was a worker, of “value” as a worker in the hopes that the ghetto would not be liquidated.

I don’t know how many parents did such a thing, but I can’t even imagine making that request – or following it.  I wasn’t there, I didn’t live in such conditions so I can’t judge, but from where I sit today, I believe that there are worse things than death.  Sending your children to the gas chambers so I can live is one of those things.  Again, I can’t judge, and it’s truly impossible to say what I would have done – but given only those two options, I would have gone with my family intact into the next world. 

This reminds me of something Elaine said about her Survivor parents.  They were not married during the Holocaust, but she said that they both suffered significantly from post-traumatic-stress disorder.  Her mother would often wake up screaming thinking she was back in Auschwitz.  Anyway, the point is that Elaine’s parents would never allow their two children to go to “camp.”  First of all, the word “camp” didn’t mean the same thing to them as it does to the rest of us.  Second, they didn’t allow their children to be away from them for any significant period of time.  Elaine never had a sleepover at a friend’s house. 

So, for her parents family is everything. Elaine’s mother lives about 5 blocks from her in Philadelphia and they talk by phone every day.  When Elaine is on these trips, or elsewhere, it drives her mother nuts until she is close by once again.  She always closes her phone calls to Elaine with, “come back to me” in Yiddish.  

Having never gone through anything that could even remotely compare, I still can’t see sending my children away.  Even if it meant I had to go with them for “special treatment” I can’t see myself letting them go and staying behind. 

All this talk of parenting reminds me of interesting things Elaine has told us about her Mother.  Here are a few:

·         Her parents never went back to Europe – certainly not Poland.  They certainly had/have no love for the Poles and Poland.

·         Since Elaine’s mother was in Auschwitz for two years she has a number tattooed on arm.  When Elaine was young she asked her what it was.  Her told her it was her phone number in case she ever forgot it.  That terrified Elaine – she worried that the phone company would come and tattoo her number on her arm if she ever forgot it.  She remembers memorizing that number at the age of 3. 

o   Once she told her mother about that and how it scared her.  Her mother didn’t quite know what to say.  She had always struggled with the decision of how much to tell her children.

o   When Elaine’s son was young, he climbed on his grandmother’s lap and asked her about the tattoo.  Looking directly at Elaine, she said, “Some bad people put that on me many years ago.”  The boy said, “Oh.” Then climbed off her lap and went off to play.  I guess in many situations it’s best to confront things – even if it has to be done basically, simply.  

·         Elaine remembers her mother using the ultimate guilt trip on her when she was a young girl and a teenager.  If Elaine was ever complaining about how something was unfair, etc. her mother would ask, “is Hitler at your door?”  There is no comeback for that one. . . . .

·         Elaine also told us when she first remembers hearing the word “Grandmother.”  She wanted to play with a friend of hers, but that friend could not play because her Grandmother was coming over.  Elaine had never heard of such a thing.  She went home and asked her Mother, “What’s a Grandmother?”  Her mother was silent for a time and then explained that it was a Mother’s Mother, or a Father’s Mother.  Elaine was shocked.  “You have a mother?”  “Yes, and so does your Father.” was the reply. Then Elaine asked where they were.  From there she began to learn about the Holocaust and the experiences of her parents.

·         Elaine remembers growing up in a house with “ghosts.”  This is her way of referring to the people she heard about, but there was no real evidence of them – no photographs, no heirlooms, nothing tangible to link her life with theirs. 

o   I think of my own children and my Mother.  3 of the 4 have never met her and the oldest can’t remember her at all.  But, we have photos, heirlooms, things to connect them to her.  Elaine didn’t have that growing up. 

·         Elaine’s parents were planning to go to Palestine after they were married (in a Displaced Persons Camp after the war), but soon, Elaine’s mother was pregnant with Elaine and a friend who had already emigrated to Palestine (Israel today) told them there was a Civil War going on and no place to raise a child, so they came to US.  They were sponsored by her two uncles who had come to the US before the war.

After the memorial in Lodz, we stopped at a mall for some lunch before going back to Warsaw.  As we walked around the mall, the four of us “man cave” or “back of the bus” guys thought we needed to lighten up the mood.  We found a party favors store in the mall and bought ridiculous hats to wear home on the bus.  We kept them in bags until we were about 20 feet from the bus and then donned them.  Jeremy even found some 2 carat (at least) fake diamond clip-on earrings to wear (“bling”). 

The entrance we made was more than memorable.  As we sauntered to the back of the bus all the cameras came out – it took us over 5 minutes to sit down.  It was a lot of fun.  These “light” moments are sorely needed on a trip like this.

Dinner was much the same.  Kerry, Tom, and I sat with Misty, Michelle, Kerry (female) and Cori.  We laughed much of the time. Poor Jeremy was stuck at a small table next to Steven and had to listen to an almost interrupted lecture during the entire dinner.  We filmed him nodding his head as he listened to Steven and added our own comedic voice overlay.  It was hilarious.  Steven finally caught on that something was going on behind him and Cori pretended to show me something on her camera.  It was all I could do not break out into uncontrollable laughter.  I won’t tell you what Jeremy said after dinner. . . . J

The Oskar Schindler Factory - Krakow, Poland

Today was another good day.  In the morning we started a little late so we were able to get more sleep (desperately needed as I didn’t get to bed until 2am).  We went and toured “Jewish Krakow.”  We saw all the synagogues and other Jewish sites that still exist in the city.  There are very few Jews in Krakow – or in Poland, for that matter – but many of the sites important to their history still exist.  

Our next item on the agenda was to go to Oskar Schindler’s factory here in Krakow.  He came to Poland in 1940 to set up a factory and become fabulously wealthy.  He certainly succeeded – by “buying” a factory from Jews who couldn’t own property anymore and using Jewish slave labor to make a huge fortune.

Me at the front gate of Oskar Schindler's factory in Krakow

However, he seemed to have a change of heart.  We saw the hill from where he saw the liquidation of the Jewish Ghetto and was startled by the brutality of it all.  We were taken to several of the little town squares where the Jews were told to report for “deportation” or “resettlement.”  We also toured the area where Steven Spielberg filmed a scene for the movie Schindler’s List.  It is the scene where they are being deported and the suitcases are being thrown down off the railing – and the young Jewish Kapo (police) hides a mother and her daughter from the Germans.

Recognize these places from "Schindler's List?"

Eventually, Schindler uses that fortune to keep his Jews from being sent to Auschwitz and gassed.  He was able to save over 1,100 people.  I really like this story (the movie is pretty good, too – but Schindler comes out looking better than he actually was & his wife is mostly ignored.  She played an important role too) because it shows how an imperfect man can still do great things and even save the lives of his fellowmen.

There is a great new museum in the administration wing of Schindler’s factory.  The factory no longer exists, but the front gate and the administrative offices are still there.  The museum describes life in Krakow just before the war and during the occupation.  At the end of the war you get to go into Schindler’s private office and look around.  It was pretty cool.  They also have a circular memorial with the names of all the “Schindler Jews.” 

Oskar Schindler's office at the Enamelworks Factory

Oh yeah – I heard a great story from the filming of “Schindler’s List.”  I guess Steven Spielberg, Liam Neeson (played Schindler), and Ben Kinglsey (played Itzak Stern) were in a small café eating lunch when some guy came in and yelled, “Dirty Jews” at them.  Ben Kinglsey leapt over the table and began pummeling the guy before anyone else could even process what had just happened!  Remember, Ben Kingsley was the actor who won an Oscar for portraying Gandhi in the film of the same name.  Imagine “Gandhi” beating the crap out of someone!  Wow. . . .

At the factory I just had to buy a little enamel sign (Schindler’s factory in Krakow made enamelware for the German army – and the black market) with the address and name of Schindler’s factory.  It’s something that will definitely go up in my classroom this fall.

One of the presses from the Schindler Factory - it made cups from metal discs

After the factory, we were able to head back to the hotel so we could get some much needed rest and shopping completed before dinner.  I did my share and will go back for more an hour before dinner – just to make sure I didn’t miss anything.  J

Then, it will be an early evening for me.  We have to check out tomorrow morning and then we’ve got a long drive to Warsaw.  More on that when I log in after the trip. . . .

Auschwitz I & Auschwitz II - Birkenau

Last night we had a lot of fun at dinner.  The conversation was relaxed and funny.  I was able to decompress and enjoy the evening.  I really appreciate the people who are on this journey with me.  I think they are feeling a lot of what I’m feeling and are trying to find time and ways to blow off steam and to process what they are seeing and experiencing.  The last couple of days I’ve had some really good conversations with people in our group.

But, today was still pretty difficult – we went to the biggest series of camps of them all – Auschwitz-Birkenau.  I didn’t struggle with what I saw and felt as much as I did at Mjdanek and Belzec, but it was still incredibly powerful.  I think I put up a bit of a “wall” today because I think subconsciously I didn’t want to be devastated like I have been the last couple of days. 

Auschwitz was a Polish army barracks that was taken over by the Germans after their invasion and they turned it into a concentration camp – first for Poles, then for Jews.  The barracks are all made out of brick because they were originally Polish army barracks.

The iconic "Work Makes You Free" sign with the brick barracks behind

Later, construction began on a separate camp – a much larger camp that was to be a combination concentration camp and killing center called Auschwitz II or Berkenau.  They used bricks from Polish homes they demolished, then they imported pre-fabricated horse stables from Germany to use as barracks for the prisoners so you see both brick structures and the long barracks often associated with concentration camps. 

Panorama picture from the top of the large guard tower at Birkenau

We had an amazing tour guide at the camps.  We just lucked out to get her in the morning for Auschwitz I and then specifically asked for her to go with us to Auschwitz II – Birkenau.  She had some awful and amazing personal stories to tell us at each stop on the tour of the camps. 

One story she told us was at the “selection point” on the train tracks in between the men’s and the women’s camps (btw, the selection was held outside the camp until early 1944 when they ran a spur line through the camp.  It was easier to process all the Hungarian Jews that were coming in throughout 1944 – Elie Wiesel was one. . . ), and I’ll try and do it justice:

Brought in on trains and waiting in line for the selection there was a mother with her 12 year old son and her very young daughter.  At the selection, her son was sent to one line, while she and her daughter were sent to another.  The boy wanted to stay with his mother so he ran to the other line to be with her.  The mother soon realized that her line would mean death for the boy so she pushed him away from her and tried to get him to go back to the other line.  He came back.  Again she pushed, and again he came back.  Frantically, the mother drove her son away from her trying to give him a chance to live but he misunderstood and thought she wanted him away from her and that she only wanted to be with his sister. 

The boy goes to the other line and in a fit of anger turns and yells at his mother, “I hate you, I hope you die.” 

Those were the last words he would say to his mother.  The boy survived the Holocaust.  His mother and his sister didn’t. 

This story made me think long and hard about my family and the words we sometimes use.  I don’t think we’ve ever gotten to “hate” but some mean things have been said on occasion.  I think it’s time for me to work on that a bit and improve how I talk to them, and to others.

The main thing I thought of today on the tour of these camps was scale.  The camps -  Birkenau especially, are incredibly large.  I wasn’t prepared for how big the complex would be.  Looking at maps in books doesn’t give you the true scale of the place – it was absolutely unbelievable, but as we walked from one end of the camp to another I got a true appreciation for the size. 

Today started out rainy and windy.  It was raining pretty hard when we were finishing up with Auschwitz I and then it came down in sheets while we were eating lunch in the bus.  But, it lessened when we began our Birkenau tour and soon stopped all-together.  I think it set the “mood” perfectly for our visit.

View of the rain from the bus

Just like the physical size of the camps, the exhibits were also on a much larger scale.  While we had seen a pile of human hair in the US Holocaust, we saw an entire section of a room piled with human hair.  In Washington DC we saw a few brushes, but here we saw an entire room full of them.  Everything was on an unimaginable scale here at the actual camp.  It was pretty tough to see – especially the room full of prosthetic limbs. . . .

An entire room full of the victims shoes

We are the shoes, we are the last witnesses.
We are shoes from grandchildren and grandfathers
From Prague, Paris and Amsterdam,
And because we are only made of fabric and leather
And not of blood and flesh,
Each one of us avoided the hellfire

– Moshe Szulsztein, Yiddish Poet

One positive thing I noticed today were the steps in the barracks as we walked from one floor to another to see the displays.  They were so worn that they sloped back and almost caused me to slip off the step a time or two.  They are so word because of the number of feet that have trod on these steps.  I thought that for every 10 pair of feet, maybe one will truly be touched by what they see and try to be a little better to their fellow-men.  If so, the museum and the exhibits are doing their job.  They have certainly given me some things to seriously think about.

Small memorial on the train tracks.  The famous large guard tower is in the background

We spent all day at the two camps and it was nice to get back to the hotel with a whole hour before dinner.  But, there was no sitting around for me.  I went with a few other people to find a Laundromat so we could clean some of our most offensive clothes.  Unfortunately, we walked about a mile – all the way to the river and didn’t find the Laundromat.  So, we walked back to the hotel and asked for clarification on the directions.  It was in the basement of that shop which is why we missed it.  But, there was no time to go out again, so we went to dinner.

Dinner tonight was again delightful.  The food was wonderful (I really think the Poles can cook circles around the Israelis and the Germans).  We had fried cheese (smoked provolone) with some kind of berry sauce to put on it – it sounds strange, but it was crazy-good!  Then we had duck with a blueberry sauce and mashed potatoes – again, very good.  Then we had some kind of decadent dessert with apples. 

But, the best part was the conversation.  Tom, Kerry and I sat with Jessica and some of the other ladies in the group.  We had some serious conversation, but we also laughed better than we had in . . . . . I think the whole trip.  It was great.

Then, we had another group meeting where Elaine told us about her mother’s experience in Auschwitz and how her mother’s sister had been murdered.  She was with another prisoner and they were carrying a large pot of “soup” (little more than hot water) when their wooden clogs slipped on the slick cobblestones.  The soup was spilled and the two girls were shot by an SS guard.  Elaine’s mother had to carry the body of her sister from her work detail back to the camp.  Elaine told us that dead or alive, each prisoner had to be accounted for each and every day.

Her mother had essentially lost the will to live, but an older woman in her barracks befriended her and helped her along.  She became her “camp sister” as they were called.  This was the relationship that would see her through the 2 years in Auschwitz, the death march in the winter of 1944-45, and her imprisonment in Ravensbruck until liberation.  What an amazing story of survival.

After our meeting, we decided to go off and do our laundry despite the late hour.  We returned well after midnight, but again there was a lot of laughing, and spirited conversation as we waited for our clothes to dry. 

Overall, it’s been a good day.  I really struggled over the last couple of days, but I feel much better now. 

Tomorrow will be more relaxed – no camps, just Jewish Krakow and Oskar Schindler’s factory.  Cool stuff. . . . .   J

Belzec

Today began with a two-hour bus ride to Belzec.  This was not a concentration camp – it was a killing center.  The camp itself is very small and had no barracks at all.  The only prisoners kept alive were those they needed to operate the gas chambers, gather valuables from the victims (where they were sent to Mjdanek for processing), and burn the bodies in pyres. 

The camp was built in late 1941 and began killing individuals in February, 1942.  The camp was only in existence until December of 1942 when the gas chambers were torn down, the ground was plowed up and wheat was planted in an attempt to erase all evidence.  

Part of the memorial - at the entrance to the camp

The gas chambers were equipped with a large diesel engine which produced he exhaust (carbon monoxide) that was used to murder the prisoners.  Only two individuals were known to have survived Belzec.  Both had been selected to be workers rather than being gassed upon arrival.  Rudolf Reder told his story and wrote a book about his experiences in the camp and how he escaped.  I’ve borrowed the book from a friend who went on this tour last year and hope to find my own copy while in Poland.  It’s an awful read, but an important historical record.

The memorial today is the size of the original camp.  It is a massive field of what I think are lava rocks.  I see this as an extension of the Jewish tradition of bringing a stone and leaving it on a person’s grave.  This is where 435,000 people were murdered – mostly Jews from Poland.  It is a very powerful memorial. 

Panorama view of the entire camp

Around the perimeter of the “lava rocks” is a concrete walkway with the names of all the Polish towns were Jews were taken and sent to die in this camp.  They are organized alphabetically, but by month as well, so you can see when each town was cleared of Jews.

Town names in Hebrew and Polish - along with a dividing line for a change in months (June to July, 1942)

At the back end of the camp there is a large “cut” in the ground where there is a wall with nothing but first names.  Again I was able to find the names of all my children, myself, and this time – my wife too.  It reminds me of the universal nature of the “selection.”  Jews of any age, occupation, background, gender were selected to die. 

The memorial also has a small museum which is very informative.  It has some great information – some of which I didn’t know before.  It says that 90% of the SS guards at Belzec had been guards at T-4 killing operations in Germany.  That’s where the killings began – with mentally and physically handicapped “Aryans” in Germany. 

I was also reminded of a quote from Christopher Browning’s book “Ordinary Men” which essentially states that in March 1942, 75% to 80% of all the victims of the Holocaust were still alive while 20% to 25% had been murdered.  Just 11 months later – by February, 1943 – those percentages were exactly reversed. 

However, there are two things that hit me the hardest at this museum.  First, were a collection of small concrete numbered tags.  These were presumably given to the prisoners when they arrived as a receipt to pick up their belongings after processing.  The Nazi’s kept deceiving the victims until the very last.  Even the gas chamber buildings were labeled “bath and disinfection” huts.  They did anything to play on the hopes of the victims that they would be kept alive as workers.  Why would they give me a tag for my belongings if they are going to kill me?  I understand that in Auschwitz, they even handed out bars of soap to the people being moved into gas chambers telling they were showers (but without the shower heads in the ceiling).

Concrete tag "receipts"

The second was a photograph of the Jewish Council in one town in Poland.  The Nazi’s had hanged them all on the day the Jews were rounded up and sent to a killing center.  As a bishop, I’ve already thought a lot about what happened to the men on the Judenrat (Jewish Council) and the “choiceless choices” (thanks Elaine – a much better phrase that I’ve previously used) they made.  Now, in one picture I see what they often received for their work. 

Well, now I’m back on the bus with the rest of the group and we’re traveling to Krakow for the next 4 days.  That will be our “base of operations” as we go out and visit more camps, one being Auschwitz-Birkenau, and ghettos.

Finally, I have to admit – I’m about ready to go home.  I have been on an emotional roller-coaster for the whole trip, but the last few days have been the worst.  I’ve been away for a long time.  I miss my family, I miss my ward, I miss my home.  But, it seems there are a few more things I’m destined to see before I go back.  I’ve loved the experience, but it’s been a series of emotionally draining experiences in a very short period of time.  I’m going to need to decompress for a while. . . . .