I showered this morning to try and stave off the cold of yesterday, scrubbing my skin red raw.
I can not get Terezin off my mind. It’s barbed wired fence traps my thoughts, yet better than the horrors that were enslaved behind these walls between 1941 to 1945.
As the bus rumbles down the beautiful Prague countryside in the early morning light, our guide Sylvie (native Czech Jew born and raised under Communism and survivor of the post-Holocaust trauma), shares pictures of relatives and survivors of Terezin. My fingers tremble as I hold each photo and stare into their eyes. The oldest survivor is 108 years old, living in Praha today.
So many emotions and stories to tell, far too many for one post. I need time to come to grips with the experience. Terezin can be no more than a square mile wide…I look down it’s longest road and can see the fortress walls.
The colorful facade of the buildings is a stark contrast to the chill in the air….
as I enter the Paradise Ghetto of the Terezin Nazi transit camp.