Two weeks ago, or thereabouts, on a Friday, Joshua and I were enjoying an evening with Don and Deila. At one point, the discussion turned to our planned Auschwitz-Birkenau visit. The four of us engaged in an intellectual dissection of this place, its significance in the annals of history, and its significance to us. Deila asked that upon our visit, or shortly thereafter, that I share my emotional reaction to this rather than my (usual) analytical perspective. So begins the diagnosis of my soul on 09.04.09. The Auschwitz Muzeum at Ocwiecm, Poland is not a museum at all, but a cemetery. Hallowed, ghostly, terrifying, and peaceful. Blue Stars of David, yamekahs, and the confused and tearful eyes of youthful visitors are enough to make one feel overcome. Enough to produce a desire to wrap your arms
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