Oskar Schindler's birthday is Monday, I discover accidentally, lending some after-the-fact permission to my indulgent midday viewing of Schindler's List today. I'd forgotten the experience of viewing that movie: forgotten that however powerful the movie itself, the most powerful part--the part that wrenches the sob from your chest--is the full-color, real-life bit at the end, when the Jews Schindler saved and their children and grandchildren walk past his grave and leave stones.
In sales conference this past week we introduced to our field reps a book chronicling the 48 hours of Kristallnacht. It's an oral history--told from both Jews and Germans, hour by hour. First of its kind. At the end of the editorial presentation, one of the reps pipes up with, "You know, it's great that you guys have uncovered this unknown bit of history!" We had to spell Kristallnacht for them. By the next day, they'd forgotten the word. Which was the moment, I think, that I felt the burden of remembrance, which led to today's matinee.
It's a beautiful Saturday. Happy weekend, friends.
2 comments:
I haven't read much about the Jews and Germany in my life time. I guess I always knew how sad it would be.
This past week I read a children's book titled Hannah's Suitcase. It was an amazing story that covered three continents. It was so touching, I need to watch and read more about WWII.
Hope wall is well you my friend....
The "Kristallnacht" must have been a great and moving presentation to have experienced.
Post a Comment