The Presence of History
While in Boston this weekend to celebrate a Swank Wedding we did spend a wee bit of time sightseeing with friends. Saturday afternoon was spent with Sweetie, GrigorPDX, Belly Dancin' Mama, and her son, Patrick. In a (failed) quest to see the USS Constitution we came across the New England Holocaust Memorial.
Words and photos cannot begin to touch on the impact of this memorial. Until you are standing there, surrounded by MILLIONS of teeny-tiny numbers etched on glass, looking through to the fence surrounding the memorial that resembles barbed wire you cannot understand it. Even with all of it there it's a bit difficult to understand.
Sweetie and GrigorPDX had somehow separated from us, which left me with Belly Dancin' Mama and Patrick walking through the memorial. Being a curious 8 year old Patrick asked what this was all about. Belly Dancin' Mama was a bit vaclempt, which left me to try to explain it to him.
HOW THE HELL DOES SOMEONE EXPLAIN THE HOLOCAUST TO AN 8 YEAR OLD?!?!?!
It ended up being something along the lines of, "Once upon a time there was a very evil man who decided he didn't like Jewish people and wanted to get rid of them all, so he tried to kill them all. He also killed gypsies and homosexuals, and basically anyone he didn't like. Thankfully, the United States, Great Britain, France and Russia banded together and got rid of him."
Patrick seemed perplexed by the fact that someone so evil could exist, which gave me hope. And to some extent, even if not consciously, he understood the gravity of it all, as he was calm and quiet and respectful the entire time we were within the memorial. But the second we crossed the threshold of the memorial he was his exuberant, whiny, 8-year-old self again.
But for those few, small moments it felt like I was truly passing something along.
Words and photos cannot begin to touch on the impact of this memorial. Until you are standing there, surrounded by MILLIONS of teeny-tiny numbers etched on glass, looking through to the fence surrounding the memorial that resembles barbed wire you cannot understand it. Even with all of it there it's a bit difficult to understand.
Sweetie and GrigorPDX had somehow separated from us, which left me with Belly Dancin' Mama and Patrick walking through the memorial. Being a curious 8 year old Patrick asked what this was all about. Belly Dancin' Mama was a bit vaclempt, which left me to try to explain it to him.
HOW THE HELL DOES SOMEONE EXPLAIN THE HOLOCAUST TO AN 8 YEAR OLD?!?!?!
It ended up being something along the lines of, "Once upon a time there was a very evil man who decided he didn't like Jewish people and wanted to get rid of them all, so he tried to kill them all. He also killed gypsies and homosexuals, and basically anyone he didn't like. Thankfully, the United States, Great Britain, France and Russia banded together and got rid of him."
Patrick seemed perplexed by the fact that someone so evil could exist, which gave me hope. And to some extent, even if not consciously, he understood the gravity of it all, as he was calm and quiet and respectful the entire time we were within the memorial. But the second we crossed the threshold of the memorial he was his exuberant, whiny, 8-year-old self again.
But for those few, small moments it felt like I was truly passing something along.
posted by Swankette at 8:57 PM
2 Comments:
Amen to that! It was an incredibly intense experience. I am deeply disappointed that A was not able to see it. We definitely need to return.
Thanks for posting the link to the memorial's web site. I was unsure about the meaning of the pits beneath the towers (and had totally missed noticing the smoke coming from the embers).
Sorry for putting you in that situation. You handled it really well, and I thank you for it. I didn't expect to be so moved that I couldn't talk.
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