Purchasing, Preparing, and Pondering

Well, it's been a busy break, and I've been busy with Christmas (I am Christian, so that's the holiday we celebrate), New Years (which also happens to be my birthday), and trip planning.   So, I thought I would share a little. . .

Purchasing is almost complete.

I have a COAT!!  Hallelujah!  I finally settled on my coat for the trip - a tri-climate.  I love it because it will be functional there, but I can separate it for the milder winters we have here in Alabama, so that seems practical.  I like practical.

BOOTS have been ordered.  Yesterday, I told a dear friend that I have a new context for "kill the fatted calf."   I have learned in the last week that #1, it's hard to find good looking winter boots in the deep south, and #2, I have a larger-than-average calf circumference.  I'd like to attribute that to my years of running, but that really wouldn't be accurate.   SO, I have ordered THREE pairs of winter boots.  I used Amazon Prime, got free shipping, and have free returns on all pairs.  Again, seems practical.  Hopefully I can make a decision this week!
 

The preparations continue.

I also continue to read and watch as I prepare myself academically.  I was invited by a friend to visit with her and her father at his home last week.  He has an extensive collection of World War II paraphernalia - including a large collection of books and documentaries related to the Holocaust.  While his collection was more-than-fascinating, listening to his personal remembrances - of the films and books, the people he had met through years of research and collecting,  the places he had visited - was the most intriguing of all.  He compelled me to dig deeply and think hard.  I left with a box full of books and movies.  I'm working through it.  I am thankful for it.

Throughout the holidays, it seems that I keep hearing cliches and other phrases that I catch myself thinking of in new ways.  So much of this season focuses on family and home.  The most vivid phrase, though, may be this one....and 

I've been pondering it....

Phone home.  

When the story broke about the Auschwitz: Past is Present committee, I had several conversations with friends about the celebrities who are a part of that group  - especially Steven Spielberg.  You see, E. T. was my very favorite childhood movie.  I remember watching it again as a teenager in Spanish during my high school Spanish class.  I cried.  I just loved it - even in another language - and Spielberg has always been a director I admired.  So, the conversations turned to, "I wonder if you'll meet Steven Spielberg."  I began to think, "What in the world would I say if I had a chance to meet him?"  Well, the lighthearted side of me thought about things people have probably been shouting to him from across yellow tape for years - "Don't go in the water!"  and "Phone home!"

Then it hit me:  "Phone home."  Wow.  That seems so easy, doesn't it?  In this day and age, when we have the ability to communicate with people around the world in an instant, think about those words. Phone home.   I can hear the voice of my mother saying, "Call me when you get there."  I can hear friends telling their children, "Let me know that you make it alright."  Phoning home is just something people do.  We call (or text or email) to let our loved ones know that we have made it somewhere safely.  We keep each other informed about the goings-on of our lives - sometimes to a fault.  Communication is so easy.

I remember when our county was devastated by a tornado in April of 2011.  Communication systems were down.  Power was out.   My husband, who is a first responder, spent hours of his time helping the injured and recovering the lost in the immediate aftermath of the storm.  I was home alone with two young children.  He was out there in the darkness.  He couldn't "phone home," and I was terrified.

So, in light of the trip and all the research I've been doing to prepare, the joke of hypothetically greeting Spielberg with "phone home" took on new meaning.

You see, for prisoners in concentration camps, there was no "phoning home."  There was no way to communicate with the outside world.  There was no knowing.  There was no real warning.  They were completely cut off, and that's just what the Nazis wanted.

From my research, I have determined that any communication from inside the camp was either a forced letter praising the conditions, or brief snippets of information, or speculation about what was going on.  I am continuing to investigate.  

The point is, though, that through the Nazi practice of isolation then concentration, communication was limited - if not totally absent.  No one "phoned home."  In reality, there was no "home" to "phone."

Parents waited for word from children.  Children waited for word from parents.  Siblings wanted to hear from each other. Where were they taken?  Were they alright?  When would they be reunited?

Even within camps, communicaton appears to have been difficult at best.  In a book I'm currently reading, Into That Darkness, one survivor tells of the separation from his family after exiting the train.  He notes that if you lost sight of them, you likely had lost sight forever.

Today, we watch the news about missing planes and wonder what really happened.  Where did the planes go?  Where are those people?

Over seventy years ago, people were "disappearing" - THOUSANDS at a time. 

 Oh yes, there were some who knew.  There were some who thought they knew.  There were some who likely did not know.  But millions of people were just GONE.  

It is now our responsibility to remember.