ufcrusher
06-03-2004, 04:59 PM
I have been going through a bunch of documents and files that I had saved over the years. Whenever I got a new system, I would copy the files onto a disc so that I didnt lose the information.
Today, I was looking for a document that I know I generated in the late 80's when I had taken a hand written log and entered it into my computer. If I had stayed true to form, I would have copied the info to discs through the years. I remember taking my 5'1/4 floppies and transferring them to my 3.5's....then my 3.5's to cdrom.
So I am going through all of these documents on this disc and finding all sorts of things that I dont remember even writing. Lots of weird things....lots of assignments that I dont recall what the hell I was talking about. Me waxing poetically about some article I read. Spouting off mathematical equations to crunch statistical data from research I conducted. Its odd to find these things.
I came across one that sort of jarred me.....the second I started reading it, the memory of the event came back with astonishing speed. It sort of upset me that I had to trigger it to remember it in that way. Either way...I figured it might be share worthy. Here goes:
"I walked through the corridor of stately trees that lined the path. At the foot of each of the trees was a little plaque. My friend, Ian, told me that each of these plaques held the name of a non-Jewish person who hid Jews during the holocaust. With each passing tree I saw a new name that I had not seen before. Ian was acting as the guide for our group. He directed us towards a building that looked like any other building. As I walked into the gaping entrance I was enveloped in silent darkness. Soon there was light, millions of lights, millions of candles for all the children that perished at Nazi hands. The silence and all the candles were enough to bring tears to my eyes. As I came out into the sunlight I had the chills. I looked around the group and saw that most of the others were in the same state as I was. No one was talking as we walked past a statue of three children that stands as another reminder. I followed Ian as he led us towards another building. As we prepared to enter into the main museum we were stopped by the madrichot (counselor's). "It is time for the main ceremony. Follow that group ahead of you and wait in line."
The path led to a line in front of a conspicuously shaped building. At a snails pace I advanced towards large iron doors with pieces of metal sticking out. Someone instructed us, "Do not talk. Move as far back as you can once your inside." I walked through the door and went back along the wall. I looked around and tried to figure out this place. It didn't seem that odd except for the single skylight in the oddly shaped building. I was standing on an elevated platform that overlooked the names of the concentration camps. There was only one door...the one I came in through. There were no lights. There was nothing except for the names, a door, and a hole in the ceiling. They slowly shut the doors as the last person came in. My skin tingled as tiny bumps appeared up and down my arms. The hairs on the back of my neck were raised as though I was in danger. Three people walked into the pit and began to explain the significance of this place, Yad Vashem, and this meeting. This building had only one entrance and exit. It was designed like the ovens that the Nazi's used. The entrance was where we all came in. The exit was directly over our heads. They explained the reason for the gathering as part of the Sar-El, which the program I was on was part of. They explained that we were going to say a special prayer of remembrance. When it was over I walked out into the warmth of the sunlight. Everyone who was there had in some way been affected by it. As we sat there ingesting the ceremony I thought about everything that I had been taught.
I walked into the museum that was the centerpiece of the memorial. My eyes were met by pictures of Nazi propaganda. The German which was foreign to my companions was clear to me. I walked through reading the different posters, charts, and pictures that the Nazi's used to foster their movement. I continued on through the museum looking at different artifacts of the Holocaust. Pictures of concentration camps, articles of clothes, descriptions of the ghetto's, and the brave fight put up by freedom fighters. I felt as if I saw more than the others. I could understand the German and read what they wrote. I felt every word as I read it. I remembered pictures of my grandfather in front of piles of dead German soldiers. This only enhanced the feelings I was experiencing.
I think that this trip to Yad Vashem was something that will always be in my mind. I can still see everything. I still get the chills when I think about the things I see. The fact that there are those who say it never happened, showed me the harsh realities of the world. I know that it did and I believe that if it is remembered it won't happen again. I will always remember. "
I guess thats what happens when more than a decade has passed since an event.
Today, I was looking for a document that I know I generated in the late 80's when I had taken a hand written log and entered it into my computer. If I had stayed true to form, I would have copied the info to discs through the years. I remember taking my 5'1/4 floppies and transferring them to my 3.5's....then my 3.5's to cdrom.
So I am going through all of these documents on this disc and finding all sorts of things that I dont remember even writing. Lots of weird things....lots of assignments that I dont recall what the hell I was talking about. Me waxing poetically about some article I read. Spouting off mathematical equations to crunch statistical data from research I conducted. Its odd to find these things.
I came across one that sort of jarred me.....the second I started reading it, the memory of the event came back with astonishing speed. It sort of upset me that I had to trigger it to remember it in that way. Either way...I figured it might be share worthy. Here goes:
"I walked through the corridor of stately trees that lined the path. At the foot of each of the trees was a little plaque. My friend, Ian, told me that each of these plaques held the name of a non-Jewish person who hid Jews during the holocaust. With each passing tree I saw a new name that I had not seen before. Ian was acting as the guide for our group. He directed us towards a building that looked like any other building. As I walked into the gaping entrance I was enveloped in silent darkness. Soon there was light, millions of lights, millions of candles for all the children that perished at Nazi hands. The silence and all the candles were enough to bring tears to my eyes. As I came out into the sunlight I had the chills. I looked around the group and saw that most of the others were in the same state as I was. No one was talking as we walked past a statue of three children that stands as another reminder. I followed Ian as he led us towards another building. As we prepared to enter into the main museum we were stopped by the madrichot (counselor's). "It is time for the main ceremony. Follow that group ahead of you and wait in line."
The path led to a line in front of a conspicuously shaped building. At a snails pace I advanced towards large iron doors with pieces of metal sticking out. Someone instructed us, "Do not talk. Move as far back as you can once your inside." I walked through the door and went back along the wall. I looked around and tried to figure out this place. It didn't seem that odd except for the single skylight in the oddly shaped building. I was standing on an elevated platform that overlooked the names of the concentration camps. There was only one door...the one I came in through. There were no lights. There was nothing except for the names, a door, and a hole in the ceiling. They slowly shut the doors as the last person came in. My skin tingled as tiny bumps appeared up and down my arms. The hairs on the back of my neck were raised as though I was in danger. Three people walked into the pit and began to explain the significance of this place, Yad Vashem, and this meeting. This building had only one entrance and exit. It was designed like the ovens that the Nazi's used. The entrance was where we all came in. The exit was directly over our heads. They explained the reason for the gathering as part of the Sar-El, which the program I was on was part of. They explained that we were going to say a special prayer of remembrance. When it was over I walked out into the warmth of the sunlight. Everyone who was there had in some way been affected by it. As we sat there ingesting the ceremony I thought about everything that I had been taught.
I walked into the museum that was the centerpiece of the memorial. My eyes were met by pictures of Nazi propaganda. The German which was foreign to my companions was clear to me. I walked through reading the different posters, charts, and pictures that the Nazi's used to foster their movement. I continued on through the museum looking at different artifacts of the Holocaust. Pictures of concentration camps, articles of clothes, descriptions of the ghetto's, and the brave fight put up by freedom fighters. I felt as if I saw more than the others. I could understand the German and read what they wrote. I felt every word as I read it. I remembered pictures of my grandfather in front of piles of dead German soldiers. This only enhanced the feelings I was experiencing.
I think that this trip to Yad Vashem was something that will always be in my mind. I can still see everything. I still get the chills when I think about the things I see. The fact that there are those who say it never happened, showed me the harsh realities of the world. I know that it did and I believe that if it is remembered it won't happen again. I will always remember. "
I guess thats what happens when more than a decade has passed since an event.