Treblinka

I see this frequently on concentration camp and KGB prison visitor logs. What is it that we mean when we vow “Never Again!”?


There was a light rain falling, with a little bit of lightning, a little bit of hail. I sat for a while on the floor of what had been a Polish prisoner barracks, wondering if the men and women imprisoned at Treblinka included someone one of my grandparents had spoken with – the dentist who filled my grandfather’s tooth, the seamstress who sewed a button on my grandmother’s coat. It was an odd thought.

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