The Holocaust Museum

Today I had off for Labor Day for the first time in five years. I was stoked. A few of my friends and I decided that we would hit up a museum, and decided on the Holocaust. I knew it would be a depressing experience, but I had not idea of the graphic material that awaited me inside.

Upon exiting the elevator, the mood was immediately set. A wall portrait of victims being shoveled in ditches was the first thing I saw. Horror struck me. I knew that while I had to experience this, it was not going to be fun. The whole museum was really informative, but as the self-guided tour progressed, the messages, pictures, videos, and displays got stronger.

One of the first things that hit me hard was America's role in the whole ordeal. They had opportunities to save thousands of Jews, but wouldn't. Nearly 1000 came to Cuba on the St. Louis, but the Nazi's had forbidden them to land in Cuba. The United States would NOT all the boat to dock, despite pleas from the captain. The coasts were being patrolled to make sure no one tried to jump and swim to their freedom. Instead the St. Louis was forced to turn around and many of the passengers were eventually captured and taken to concentration camps. Later, the United States decided that they would only allow distinguished Jews to come to the States. Didn't see that in the history books growing up...I was shocked and ashamed at the same time.

As the tour continued, horrific pictures lined the walls. I had to walk through a roughly 20 by 10 box car that would transport as many as 100 prisoners at a time to death or concentration camps. These conditions were catastrophic. There was a room that played audio from survivors and their experiences, I mean just an absolute morbid feeling came over me. Then I walked past a display of shoes. The odor that exuded them was enough to make me gag on the spot and I'm sure it didn't even account for 1/20th of the shoes from tortured victims. The smell of leather mixed with spoiled eggs on a hot day with no ventilation is about as well as I can describe the pungency of the hallway. Just typing this now, and reliving those past three hours is emotionally wearing me down. The medical experiments, I can't even begin to describe. What kind of sick, deranged humans would do such a thing?

I'm going to wrap this up. At the end of the tour was the Remembrance Room with candles everywhere and soil from each of the death and concentration camps. As soon as I walked in, chills ran through my body. Goosebumps covered me from head to toe. I paused in reverence and said a prayer for all of the souls who lost their lives way to soon in this most horrific event in our worlds history. If somehow you don't believe that the Holocaust actually happened, talk to me, or better yet, come to D.C. and take the tour yourself. You will then believe.

I left the museum emotionally stunned and very disturbed. Fitting enough, it started to rain on my bus ride home, and I thought to myself, these raindrops resembled the amount of tears shed by those who lived through or were somehow affected by this event. I knew I would leave the museum deeply saddened and depressed, and I did, but I will never regret taking that tour.