Survival

Yesterday I went to the East Tennessee Historical Society to view the documentary, "Living On: Tennesseans Remember the Holocaust." I also viewed the traveling exhibit of black and white portraits of Tennessee survivors and liberators. There are 64 survivors and liberators of the Holocaust living in Tennessee. I was surprised. One man from Franklin, TN, Jimmy Gentry, who helped to liberate Dachau in Germany, vowed to never talk about his experience and what he saw. He thought if he didn’t speak of it, it would go away. He finally began talking and writing about his experience in 1985 after meeting a survivor living in Nashville. Another liberator, Harry Snodgrass, now living in Mt. Juliet, Tennessee, helped liberate Buchenwald and a prisoner came up to him at the fence and asked if he had a cigarette. He had 3 packs of cigarettes on him but there were so many prisoners standing at the fence that he feared it might cause a riot if he got them out. He knew he didn’t have enough for everyone so he just said, "No, I don’t." The man said, "Wait here a minute," and ran off. When he returned he gave Harry Snodgrass a small tin and inside was a dirty cigarette butt and as he gave it to him, he said, "Thank you." You can imagine how this U.S. soldier was humbled by that simple act and why he will never ever forget it. By telling this story, others won’t forget it either. That’s why it is important that we hear these "first person" accounts from survivors, refugees, hidden children, and liberators. Harry Snodgrass also says, "for evil to exist it just takes good people to do nothing."
In the audience of about 100 yesterday was Arthur Pais, a survivor, part of only ten percent of the Lithuanian Jews who lived. I saw his story portrayed in the documentary and I watched his emotional reaction as he watched himself and others. He, his father, and his brother were sent to Dachau in Germany (his mother and sister to Stutthof in Poland). I wanted to say something to him after the film. I’ve talked with two other survivors of the Holocaust in my lifetime. This time, however, I couldn't bring myself to go up to him. I don’t know why. I wanted, however, to tell him how sorry I was for what happened to him, his family, his friends, and his neighbors. So very sorry.

You can read some of these Tennesseans’ stories for yourself: http://www.wnpt.net/livingon/