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    Mikiesboy
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Timmy's Journal - 55. The Evidence Room - a haibun

i'd lost my poetic voice, i thought ... but it came back to me after this ... i could not deny the victims and their voices for they still speak...

though not graphic, this may upset the sensitive ...but somethings should upset us and we should never let it happen again

The Evidence Room

a Haibun

 

We went to see the wonders of the Vikings at the museum. They were, we discovered, so much more than violent plunderers; they were in fact, artisans, farmers, and people who knew the seas. How brave to set off in hopes of finding land, to go viking.

Leaving behind these people we moved on to more modern times and an exhibit called The Evidence Room. I knew what it was, why, and what had happened, but I was not prepared enough …

 

 

The room is ghostly white and silent like a tomb

In here I wander alone, wanting no one near

I reach out and touch the plaster reliefs

See the camp, and the trains, the buildings

And the ovens

 

 

The next thing I see is the door. Well thought out it seems. That in itself is an abomination—that someone saw the problem of keeping gas in, keeping 2,000 victims in—and then to wonder; how do you open a door normally when the dead are piled against it?

 

 

Simple solutions to big problems

And it must be efficient

Cover the peep hole with wire

So victims cannot break it

Have the door open outward not in

So the dead do not interfere with the economic disposal

Of themselves

 

 

The gas column, it is floor to ceiling a cage within a cage to keep those who do not want to die out. I can see it, hear the fear—the screams—as they realize this is no mere shower.

 

 

I am cold

Chills and horror run through my soul

I can't breathe

There is no sound, yet I hear them

Tears sit close in my eyes

This room is filled with the dead

 

 

I want to leave here, this room of evidence proving the Holocaust was real, that teems with the voices and tears of the dead. But, there is more to see, the hand written words and drawings of the architects—the plans— and the ladder and the hatch.

Yes, the hatch. The small outward opening maybe 16 inches by 18 inches, that seals shut, and the ladder; you need the ladder because the hatch is up high—out of reach of the victims.

After the gas is released, after the screaming stopped, all in the time most of us have breaks at our jobs, 15 minutes, then guards would climb the ladder, open the hatch to ensure the victims were all dead.

 

 

This room

Where you can touch the past

See what they saw

It is quiet; ghostly

Yet I want to cover my ears

Block out their voices

For it seems they still need to be heard

Because some do not believe

And on top of the horror here

That

is

the worst of it.

 

_____

You can see, and read more about The Evidence Room here.
Copyright © 2017 Mikiesboy; All Rights Reserved.
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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i knew that tim's pen wouldn't be silent forever because it's his way,  and i knew that whatever came when that pen spoke again would be full of emotion.

i also knew that he was seeing this exhibit.

 

what i did not know was he would take us all there too.

 

thank you tim for making sure that we few lucky souls who know you will forever remember,

and because of your words we will make sure that others do not forget.

 

i've said it before, and i'll keep saying it

thank you for sharing your gift with us :hug:

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1 minute ago, mollyhousemouse said:

i knew that tim's pen wouldn't be silent forever because it's his way,  and i knew that whatever came when that pen spoke again would be full of emotion.

i also knew that he was seeing this exhibit.

 

what i did not know was he would take us all there too.

thank you, molly ... i told AC i'd gone to see it, and he said, will you write about it, and i said, oh no.. i've no plans do write anything about it.  by the time i got to bed, i knew there was no choice but to write.  i knew as well the only form that would let me say what they wanted to say was the Haibun ... it was the perfect form for this work ... not only this cannot be forgotten, but we continue to repeat this cycle of hate.. it hasnt stopped .. that we don't learn saddens me, but maybe a few of us do and we'll tell others who will listen.

 

thanks molly xoxo

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I've visited more than one concentration camp but still, it's difficult to comprehend how it could come to that.

This exhibition seems to show the inhumanity by stressing the technical aspect, which doesn't lead to making the horrors more technical but it shows all the more that the construction of a chamber like this cannot be brought into accord with being human.

There are (unfortunately) many places, books and films that show the horrors that are shown here but I, too, think that the last lines make this haibun so powerful:

Because some do not believe

And on top of the horror here

That

is

the worst of it.

There really is not much more to say - but hope never dies (at least it shoudn't) and you're right, history has be told anew in each generation because it is important that we don't forget.

 

 

Edited by Zenobia
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