Gjør som tusenvis av andre bokelskere
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From my earliest childhoodmemories, I recall my dad speaking about his experiences in the holocaust. When he started talking about it, whichwasn't often, you just listened. You'doccasionally hear him screaming in his sleep, reliving the nightmare of theholocaust. As I heard his stories, they weredisconnected, with no organized chronology. Most of the time, you had very little idea as to when a particular storytook place, and even my father was fuzzy on the timeframe.When I was about thirteen, anevent occurred that imprinted itself indelibly in my mind. While shopping with his family in downtownBrooklyn, my father encountered a man who had been a kapo (guard) at one of theslave labor camps where he had been interned. I can still see the confrontation, which is described in the book, asclearly as if it happened yesterday. When my father neared eighty, Irealized that all his stories would be lost to future generations when he died;and, when I died, no one in the family would have any knowledge of thesuffering he endured. I persuaded himto collaborate with me to get his story on paper. It took two years, and here's the product of our efforts. His story is too important for itnot to endure and serve as a lesson to future generations. What happened to him and the Jewish peoplemust never be allowed to happen again - to Jews or any ethnic group. Don't ever let it happen again!
Abonner på vårt nyhetsbrev og få rabatter og inspirasjon til din neste leseopplevelse.
Ved å abonnere godtar du vår personvernerklæring.