Savta’s story, in all its intricate detail, is now a part of documented history, a memory that cannot be erased or rationally denied. And why is Savta’s story, or any one person’s story for that matter, even important in the grand scheme of things? So many personal accounts have already been documented, millions of dollars spent on erecting museums of Holocaust memorial all over the world.
It matters because I am going to share it with my family and they will share it with theirs and so on, not just preserving a single detailed account of sacred family history, but also contributing to the public consciousness and collective memory of the horrific genocide and torture that took place.
Remembering specific accounts, details, and dates is what fosters public consciousness of the Holocaust. Our collective memory of this tragic time period cannot be sustained by some vague notion of destruction, but by gathering detailed information from survivors and remembering those details for generations to come.
As a direct descendent of Holocaust survivors, I feel a sense of moral obligation to remember the details of Savta’s story. I will remember Savta’s personal accounts of the
Holocaust. I will remember her experiences as a prisoner in the concentration camps and her countless stories of miraculous survival. I will remember the pink knit dress.
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