The Book of Lost Names

by Kristin Harmel

There were soiled children, screaming babies, haggard elderly women, sobbing old men. Guard towers loomed over the crowd, and French policemen patrolled the perimeter, their expressions blank.

I’ve been to the Holocaust museum in DC and the silence you experience walking in says everything you need to know about how utterly devastating and sinister a time like this was and the affect it still has as we continue to hear the survivors stories. It’s hard to even fathom to have everything ripped from away you. To wake up one morning and no longer know home, all you’re belongings and treasures gone, your family die in front of you. Even more to lose your sense of self and identity, and even your pride.