tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45319797219331955702024-03-05T19:31:16.893-08:00Sid Shroyer: Holocaust Teacher Trip 2010Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-43769096491504985882015-10-24T12:29:00.000-07:002015-10-24T12:29:42.150-07:00<a href="https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1ULti4xfEAiD8juXKe2rfPnZg09J-fO2SgOGo_o4InkY/edit?usp=sharing">Kristallnacht for Holy Cross, 2015</a>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-48991442829035501492010-08-15T13:13:00.000-07:002010-08-15T13:26:22.844-07:00Journal 8: Washington, D.C.<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/15/movies/15tillman.html?_r=1&ref=movies">Narrative</a> = <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/15/books/review/Hari-t.html?ref=books">Ideology</a>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-57223505655793130072010-08-10T17:57:00.000-07:002010-08-15T13:12:27.697-07:00Journal 7: Jerusalem<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www1.yadvashem.org/yv/en/righteous/stories/gebethner.asp">Teach what was lost; rescue the individual; connect in interests of students.</a></p>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-55591380027544496392010-08-09T03:08:00.000-07:002010-08-09T03:33:41.966-07:00Journal 6: On the bus, Poland<p class="MsoNormal">Barracks #5 “Material Proof of Crimes”</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The road from Kielce to Lodz is the road </p> <p class="MsoNormal">from Rochester to Logansport.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Behind a fence a woman on a hot day steps out of her home</p> <p class="MsoNormal">in shorts and a bathing suit top to pick up a toy and</p> <p class="MsoNormal">rush back in to answer the phone.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A satellite dish on the roof collects what she needs to know</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And shoves it through a tube to the front room.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Lodz..pre-war Jewish population of around 180,000…fewer than 900 survived</p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s not so far away..as close as my eyes, my nose, my ears….as real as that</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Do we know that this means?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Do we think we know that this means?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Where does this end?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Do we know that this means?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">-space-</p> <p class="MsoNormal">and</p> <p class="MsoNormal">-silence-</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=6371">Palpable and mute - as a globed fruit - a poem should not mean but be<o:p></o:p></a></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><br /></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My heart stops to breathe</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Squirming under glass – I have looked through my window – I</p> <p class="MsoNormal">have touched the glass</p> <p class="MsoNormal">You look through the window at me looking through the window… I touch the glass</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-62556192433126876272010-08-08T10:59:00.000-07:002010-08-08T11:04:57.507-07:00Journal 5: Jerusalem<p class="MsoNormal">There were<a href="http://www1.yadvashem.org/yv/en/righteous/stories/meerburg.asp"> heroes everywhere. My students</a> need to know that, even if the proportion of time spent on heroes is not equal to the proportion of heroes, because the recognition of heroes is the recognition of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">choice</i>. That is easily relatable to students’ own experiences. </p>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-57513074236237857262010-08-07T07:10:00.000-07:002010-08-07T07:33:54.767-07:00Journal 4: Washington, D.C.<p class="MsoNormal">In one of our sessions at the museum before we left for Israel, USHMM curator Kyra Schuster told us about a<a href="http://www.ushmm.org/research/collections/curatorscorner/detail.php?content=2009-12-01"> homemade puppet</a> that appears in a grainy black and white film of an American medic entertaining children in a French displaced persons camp. The puppet showed up last year in a box in a basement in Cadillac, Michigan.</p><p class="MsoNormal">One and a half million children were murdered in the Holocaust.</p>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-52301077366492584042010-08-06T06:28:00.000-07:002010-08-06T07:11:30.121-07:00Journal 3: Lublin, Poland<p class="MsoNormal">In response to Needville, Texas's Susan Davis inquiry about more than once seeing the same drawing of a stereotypical Jew on an illustration for sale, the Lublin, Poland shop clerk says, “We have here to bring us money.” She adds, "It's the <a href="http://www.jta.org/news/article/2010/08/02/2740306/in-poland-shabbatons-for-non-jews-to-combat-anti-semitism">Good Luck Jew</a>."</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-18383449440010582732010-08-05T06:03:00.000-07:002010-08-09T03:05:16.179-07:00Journal 2: Bergen-Belsen<p class="MsoNormal">“<a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=129025516">Our fathers and grandfathers were perpetrators</a>…younger generation not to blame, but they do have a great responsibility to acknowledge and to teach.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"> Carola Rudnick, German educator at Bergen-Belsen</p>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-80820524375262622262010-08-05T06:02:00.000-07:002010-08-05T06:02:39.063-07:00Bergen-Belsen<object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ex5-epxRCcc&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ex5-epxRCcc&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-22860911335560309682010-08-04T08:52:00.000-07:002010-08-04T08:53:38.509-07:00Journal 1: Washington, D.C.Maintaining one's humanity is a form of resistance.Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-89982550644870718992010-08-04T08:40:00.000-07:002010-08-04T08:50:48.782-07:00My journalIn an attempt to close this blog, I went into my trip journal this morning. <div><br /></div><div>I thought I might find a few things to share and then be off on my merry way, but it will not work that way. Instead, I'll keep the blog open and share a little bit at a time.<br /><div><br /></div><div>The journal is another form of the video and the verbal posts. There are quotations, observations, narratives, and poems created along the way, but no end in sight. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-66148921577636503472010-08-02T09:14:00.000-07:002010-08-02T09:14:03.437-07:00Waclaw Wojclechowski<object style="background-image:url(http://i1.ytimg.com/vi/xgcp0LXLtkE/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xgcp0LXLtkE&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xgcp0LXLtkE&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-61084188583156293172010-08-02T08:21:00.000-07:002010-08-02T09:07:31.558-07:00Summer ReadingI met Gerda Weissmann Klein when the Kurt and Tessye Simon Fund for Holocaust Remembrance brought her to South Bend in 2006. I am re-reading her Holocaust memoir <i>All But My Life</i>, the summer reading assignment for my incoming four sections of level 3 American Lit. and Composition class. <div><br /></div><div>Gerda is one of six thousand Jews who lived in Bielitz before the war. Only 25,000 Jews live in the entire country today. Over nine percent of Poland was Jewish in 1939. Today, it's less than seven-tenths of one percent. </div><div><br /></div><div>Because of the trip, I've seen now first hand what a vibrant culture was lost; her home town of Bielitz, now called Bielsko-Biala, is only a few miles from the beautiful city of Krakow where we stayed for three days. From what I can see from some pictures on the internet, Bielsko-Biala looks a lot like Krakow. </div><div><br /></div><div>The trip will make me better able to teach and to encourage my students to learn for themselves about the Holocaust. "Please remember," said Waclaw, "These were individual people."</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-16074068671571734462010-08-01T11:34:00.000-07:002010-08-01T11:34:19.488-07:00Lublin<object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/c-wqCicN9n0&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/c-wqCicN9n0&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-84813315488952997112010-07-30T07:47:00.000-07:002010-07-30T07:47:11.687-07:00Berlin<object style="background-image:url(http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/YN_JVewEc9c/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YN_JVewEc9c&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YN_JVewEc9c&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-45301227054363612372010-07-30T06:32:00.000-07:002010-07-30T07:28:07.335-07:00Berlin from hereAfter flying through the early morning hours from Tel Aviv, we landed in Berlin Sunday, July 11. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday were full of people to meet and places to go.<div><br /></div><div>Sunday evening, Program Coordinator Stephen Feinberg gave us a quick tour and history lesson of some of the important locales of Nazi operations in central Berlin. </div><div><br /></div><div>Oddly, on the day we arrived, a huge outdoor tent housing a Berlin fashion show covered the site of the famous book burning of May 1933. We managed to make our way to the memorial to that event, however, a well-lit, starkly white underground bookcase that holds no books. </div><div><br /></div><div>That event, by the way, was generated not by the Nazi government, but by the German Student Association as a way of attacking what they called, "un-German spirit." They saw it as patriotic, an expression of love and devotion for their nation. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><img src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/2/2b/1933-may-10-berlin-book-burning.JPG/250px-1933-may-10-berlin-book-burning.JPG" /> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>My favorite part of the Pledge of Allegiance we observe at school is the ending, "with liberty and justice for all." For all. The Nazi definition of "nation" did not include "all." Also, the German pledge was to Adolph Hitler as the embodiment of "German-ness" and did not locate the nation "<i>under</i> God." I know the inclusion of "God" in our pledge is controversial, but for me, as a suggestion that the "nation" is subservient to an ideal, and not the other way around, it works. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've already included video and comments here on the Gruenewald train depot and Wannsee, but I want to add what I can on our visit to Bergen-Belsen, the former Gestapo Headquarters known as the "Topography of Terror," and the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe.</div>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-10693585682328811892010-07-29T11:21:00.000-07:002010-07-29T11:21:42.760-07:00Jerusalem<object style="background-image:url(http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/Bps3mWmk7f0/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bps3mWmk7f0&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bps3mWmk7f0&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-71991230229088658332010-07-29T08:40:00.000-07:002010-07-29T11:15:41.254-07:00From home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rDilPF127eHFLmJecqKCQJ9HjvLqWG8kT6Oj27H3y9ERExk-ol2J5LZqAnfn4nDw1eK_O_hTIVsoltq2DVDx5Uj-wigV-OsO0iN-z-6zalnC05ZdyzzoSjzCs4KVsMsWutUUbOO9WAF8/s1600/jerusalem+window.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rDilPF127eHFLmJecqKCQJ9HjvLqWG8kT6Oj27H3y9ERExk-ol2J5LZqAnfn4nDw1eK_O_hTIVsoltq2DVDx5Uj-wigV-OsO0iN-z-6zalnC05ZdyzzoSjzCs4KVsMsWutUUbOO9WAF8/s200/jerusalem+window.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499393029499795154" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">The window of my room in Jerusalem</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>From July 7 to July 10 we were in Israel, mostly Jerusalem. The bag that contained my computer arrived on July 9 from Frankfort, via Lufthansa, so I did not exactly hit the ground running on my plan to post video and text to my blog so I could share my experience with you. <div><br /></div><div>Some of the video I am going over only now, and I intend to share segments from Israel, Berlin, and Lublin with you. It's fun to discover some of the things I had already forgotten. One of them is a segment of around 30 seconds recorded through my open hotel window during a long, hot, and un-air conditioned night in Zamosc. It's an outdoor performance of "Let the Sunshine In" from <b>Hair, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">with a Polish accent.</span></b></div><div><br /></div><div>My final product will be to put all of these segments together into one extended video that I intend to share with my trip mates. It's a labor of love: for my colleagues, guides and directors; for the program; and, of course, for the spirit of the survivors and the memory of the departed.</div><div><br /></div><div>I turned 57 years old today. Judy is surprising me with dinner at a secret location this evening. My mother's health took a turn for the worse while I was gone; I visited her yesterday and attended an assessment meeting with my sister, Linda, and the staff of the rehabilitation center where she is being treated. Her strength is faltering. </div><div><br /></div><div>Next week, I will be filling in for Tony Krabill at WVPE, during All Things Considered. The local host of Morning Edition, Michael Linville, and I talked about the trip yesterday and he suggested that some sort of interview might be in order. I will let you know about that. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jim Messina and I spoke on the phone yesterday. He suggested that a recording of any interview would be a great thing to send along to our colleagues. I agree. I told Jim that I thought briefly Wednesday, while at the grocery store, that I saw Program Director Elaine Culbertson in one of the aisles ahead of me. Then, when I got home, a quick glimpse of our letter carrier fooled me into thinking that our mailman is, in fact, colleague Nick Hart. </div><div><br /></div><div>I wait for myself to arrive. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-9738642882882894722010-07-27T05:23:00.000-07:002010-07-27T08:05:21.760-07:00Landing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ5mZ7m6qqhf3WiiFj85rcoKyr_qgSD-PfA0V6QFADmJq4xLc-pZqZzUlL7u7yIndaAltucs4vHNMg7ivexoAkqpDjvg_xEoRoyWPKEaMk6XZjtnUBao7pRyK0q3tNL-nx4UBCuWlDwujp/s1600/elaine+4.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ5mZ7m6qqhf3WiiFj85rcoKyr_qgSD-PfA0V6QFADmJq4xLc-pZqZzUlL7u7yIndaAltucs4vHNMg7ivexoAkqpDjvg_xEoRoyWPKEaMk6XZjtnUBao7pRyK0q3tNL-nx4UBCuWlDwujp/s200/elaine+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498599272091768242" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbSCZhoprCPOsa2EYSTyg4GX0WT-_kd-AiMlZwlPJskI7SX4DjpzfEmyGVTw_9hwvrFNBNNVFH8-P2cmg577uQOTJYi6Fo5EgFSY5aFS2HxtbrOehgKBms9XEwMIAlpqWDtjZoJVZr4Ju/s1600/elaine+1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbSCZhoprCPOsa2EYSTyg4GX0WT-_kd-AiMlZwlPJskI7SX4DjpzfEmyGVTw_9hwvrFNBNNVFH8-P2cmg577uQOTJYi6Fo5EgFSY5aFS2HxtbrOehgKBms9XEwMIAlpqWDtjZoJVZr4Ju/s200/elaine+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498599268548126114" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7E7RiLs9HBl3A_z8VpPGXLbCpCD7SlKPWrAkEbW6oJsmqwgFzgxkiuADI0MYKhKchCkvkupWs3Sh29ijWgKP5tmi1OvNdnOlCL1Xz5hNBAUyrWKm6ahPsxkG3C5CuXKLpT_QRCz7rrSb7/s1600/elaine+2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7E7RiLs9HBl3A_z8VpPGXLbCpCD7SlKPWrAkEbW6oJsmqwgFzgxkiuADI0MYKhKchCkvkupWs3Sh29ijWgKP5tmi1OvNdnOlCL1Xz5hNBAUyrWKm6ahPsxkG3C5CuXKLpT_QRCz7rrSb7/s200/elaine+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498599257738331122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbueGhWlA37-B7NHmQWK-XjLqr7fG9LKRZ81ikP5kfFSvtAK-VsMBv6KFg9oLzOTiOvkgRI23dCyjL199tGpOb8s-Z_qj7O7YUxAY2DrZDRSsmpXVFUswjWSvFPU9GnuVm58eQDeRs6J_q/s1600/elaine+3.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbueGhWlA37-B7NHmQWK-XjLqr7fG9LKRZ81ikP5kfFSvtAK-VsMBv6KFg9oLzOTiOvkgRI23dCyjL199tGpOb8s-Z_qj7O7YUxAY2DrZDRSsmpXVFUswjWSvFPU9GnuVm58eQDeRs6J_q/s200/elaine+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498599255873794194" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmVyecECr9irijQyx-1MscYZ8iS-rxYjI-XqMG3kAYuIebOBhVVTpPAgpx8z9IehscI9bVoDHqO2pLMyngOvMNvPdWgRQgPGG07RkwxVTFVpFAba5x0o_HbzG2swordrke9UZcMvi5Abs/s1600/elaine+3.jpg"></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>.............I am home.</div><div><br /></div><div>This post runs the risk of being incoherent. My thoughts are too new to coalesce.</div><div><br /></div><div>Everything changed for me at Auschwitz. </div><div><br /></div><div>As Agnes, our guide, told us that, "The hair had value; the Lives had no value," I walked into a room filled to overflowing with protheses .... </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">"Never- will I forget this night, the first night in the camp, it will remain with me as being the longest night in my life. Never- will I forget the smoke. Never- will I forget the small faces of the children before my eyes, whose bodies rose up like coils of smoke, into the blue heav</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">ens. Never- will I forget the flames, that consumed my faith forever. Never- will I forget the silence in the night, that took my lust for life away- for all eternity. Never- will I forget the moment that killed my God, and my soul and my dreams- which took on the face of the depraved. Never- will I forget even if I am sentenced to live as long as God: Never!!“ ~Elie Wiesel</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>..protheses ....</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It has occurred to me that my breakdown happened at the place where we were not allowed to take pictures. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Without thinking my body seized and I bolted from the room...no, I can not look at that. My brain became my shield...like the impulse that grabs my arm when my finger touches the stove. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The image I ran from, however, is the image that I will never forget. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> I had a picture. No camera needed. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The hair had value, the people did not. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Protheses.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I had my picture. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My brain told my body that I had to leave. I snapped a picture. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My video project had had the effect of separating me from the direct experience.At Auschwitz I was not afforded that luxury. It's ironic because I generally don't take pictures much. On this trip I was constantly looking at our experience through the shield of a camera. Until someone told me I couldn't do that </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">here</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Hair had value...lives did not. A room filled to overflowing with protheses. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">That's where I was. That's what I shared with my colleagues and with my guides: Elaine Culbertson, Stephen Feinberg, Margret Atkinson, Armando Banchs, Mary Ann Bolinger, Linda Christensen, Susan Davis, Erin DeHart, Rebecca Elmore, Nick Hart, Brian Hurd, Laron Johnson, Rosa Lamb, Debra Maller-Natoli, Carrie McCarthy, Megan McCuiston, James Messina, Stephanie Murdock, LaVonne Napier, Cassie Nodine, Mitch Polay, Lynn Ringle, Brad Sims, Teresa Starkey, Maribel Villalva, Brian Woodward, and Waclaw Wojciechowski. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Now I am home. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"> </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:11px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-137248406391891202010-07-25T04:32:00.000-07:002010-07-25T04:32:49.202-07:00Treblinka<object style="background-image:url(http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/ApQIEHci7HE/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ApQIEHci7HE&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ApQIEHci7HE&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-70903427833171305552010-07-25T00:48:00.000-07:002010-07-25T03:07:53.774-07:00Returning homeTravel has been the largest part of the last two days. <div><br /></div><div>Friday morning we bussed from Lodz to Treblinka to commemorate the 850,000 people who were murdered there between July 1942 and October 1943. Along with Sobibor and Belzec, Treblinka was one of the Aktion Reinhard extermination camps set up by the SS in the area of Poland that was not annexed to Germany proper after the invasion in September 1939. Occupied, but not annexed. </div><div><br /></div><div>Around 25 German and Austrian bosses and 120 mostly Ukranian guards murdered 850,000 (800,000 Jews) in 16 months. They used diesel engine exhaust to fill the gas chambers and asphyxiate their victims, hundreds of thousands from Warsaw. Treblinka closed after an inmate revolt in which 600 inmates escaped and the Germans destroyed most of it before the Russians captured the area.</div><div><br /></div><div>Around the site of the gas chamber and the crematorium the memorial sweeps across the surrounding acreage where the barracks were, individual markers for the communities that were destroyed, and one marker for an individual. That is Janusz Korczak, the teacher who boarded the death train in Warsaw with his students bound for Treblinka.<img src="data:image/jpg;base64,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" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We then road the bus to Warsaw and in the evening after dinner enjoyed a light-hearted closing ceremony that included singing "Que Sera Sera," a tradition begun by program founder and Holocaust survivor Vladka Meed. </div><div><br /></div><div>My colleagues on the trip are among the finest people I have ever met. </div><div><br /></div><div>We said goodbye to our wonderful Polish guide Waclaw Wojciechowski, for whom I really should devote an entire post. </div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday was a fly day. The context of our journey makes complaining inappropriate. While the most important leg of this journey remains, I can already say it is great to be back in the United States. After dinner last night Elaine Culbertson, our program director, warned us that there is a bit of an adjustment to life at home after this trip. Having you with me on this blog should help me with that, I think. You know where I've been. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today and tomorrow morning we debrief at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. I have some more interviews to do for my movie. I hope to be back in South Bend around 6:00 P.M. Monday.</div><div><br /></div><div>The blog will continue for a while after I get home. </div>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-81571930880752936172010-07-22T21:52:00.000-07:002010-07-22T21:52:36.222-07:00Lodz<object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tQB-FrKZ024&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tQB-FrKZ024&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-10650499585120540742010-07-22T09:12:00.000-07:002010-07-22T09:33:59.047-07:00Filmmaker<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvcSgWkn6DX75RtLNJo8tkEHVm9B1AhsvX9MhEQXIKkIGhltrNqsyWNYvU9-jo25_3AXd-Lfgvd8gV8SuhtuG9Fe0TFqdP9Wqrlh4w_HLJGTAmwrppR6WKFiO3Mmompw4Ml3_p1EeTou1F/s1600/filming.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvcSgWkn6DX75RtLNJo8tkEHVm9B1AhsvX9MhEQXIKkIGhltrNqsyWNYvU9-jo25_3AXd-Lfgvd8gV8SuhtuG9Fe0TFqdP9Wqrlh4w_HLJGTAmwrppR6WKFiO3Mmompw4Ml3_p1EeTou1F/s320/filming.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496764785430432418" /></a><br /><br /><div>My idea for the film was to let the participants in the program tell the story of the program as it happens, with the images of a particular segment speaking for themselves. The unexpected bonus has been the narration provided by the guides and the program directors. Since the stories are so compelling, all I have to do is get out of the way. <div><br /></div><div>Shoot, look at it, trim, and sequence.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-75279596036370765722010-07-22T06:03:00.000-07:002010-07-22T06:03:05.781-07:00Kielce<object style="background-image:url(http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/Qg1UjRdJo7w/hqdefault.jpg)" width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qg1UjRdJo7w&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qg1UjRdJo7w&hl=en_US&fs=1" width="480" height="295" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531979721933195570.post-81860503315205765642010-07-22T05:18:00.000-07:002010-07-25T02:52:35.939-07:00LodzThe story of Lodz may seem familiar, but for every ghetto in every Polish city and town, there are many many individuals and many many stories: heartache, separation, hunger, destruction, depravity, forced removal, and death. Every story is as unique as you and me. Every single story is significant. Every person had a name. Being here makes that clear. Not six million divided by the individual story....The individual story. Times six million. <div><div><br /></div><div>We are not entitled to fatigue.<div><br /></div><div>I remember that Prof. Yehuda Bauer told us at Yad Vashem that study of the Holocaust takes us to a greater awareness of issues of human rights. He said study of the greatest cruelty awakens us to the greatest empathy. </div><div><br /></div><div>Look. It's the least we can do. </div><div><br /></div><div>We are not entitled to fatigue.</div><div><br /></div><div>Open our hearts and open our minds and simply look. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Today we looked around Lodz, Poland, a city that contained the second largest Jewish community in pre-war Poland. After the Germans conquered Poland in September, 1939, they established a Jewish ghetto for Lodz. Around a third of the city's population was Jewish, and they were forced into the ghetto starting in February of 1940. Of that Jewish population of around 160,000, less than 900 remained alive after the war. About 20 per cent died in the ghetto, from sickness and starvation and torture and random acts of violence. The Lodz ghetto had no running water and no sewers. In addition to the natives, the Germans shipped Jews into the Lodz ghetto, from Germany, Austria, Luxembourg, and the Protecctorate of Bohemia and Monravia. </div><div><br /></div><div>When we toss around numbers like six million and one-and-a-half-million, 160 thousand may seem small, but a city of 160 thousand would be near in size to South Bend and Mishawaka combined. When we visit the destruction of the Jewish community in Lodz we visit that kind of devastation. Nine hundred left out of 160,ooo.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today in Lodz we looked at the old ghetto area, the old Jewish cemetery and the railroad station from which Jews were deported. What I noticed most were children playing across the street from these sites, in parks, in backyards, and in fountains. Today was a hot day. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow we ride the bus to Treblinka and then Warsaw, from where we began our trip back to the United States on Saturday. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Sid Shroyerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09531897982437222709noreply@blogger.com0