All the middle aged girls (18-35) were put to the right, and the old and young ones were out to the left. Every single girl in front of me that said they were sixteen or younger were all put to the left. My mother in front of me the solider asks her age. She tells him with her voice cracking, "Thirty-two." She is put to the right. "No." I thought to myself. We are going to be separated. It's my turn and he asks me my age. I tell him confidently, "Sixteen." He stares at me. He puts me to the right. Why me? What was wrong with all the other sixteen year olds? I couldn't tell you. I was just filled with joy to not be separated from my mother. We get into the camp and we're assigned beds. My mother and I shared a bed on the top bunk. We were all given a piece of bread and a small cup of water, and told …show more content…
"Nancy. Shelly." Names being said one after another, it felt like a lot more names were said than twenty. As every name is called a slight bit of relief is released when I realize it is not mine. Everyone who was called walked to the solider and stopped directly behind him. The German solider pauses. I thought he was done calling names, but a break in the silence I hear my name, "Willimina Berg." My heart drops. My mother doesn't do anything. At this point I don't think my presence mattered to her anymore. So I walk to the solider without saying a word to my mother. I was the last name called and everyone else was sent to their rooms. We were given a few blankets to share and slept on the floor till the morning when we will begin our march for the search of the unknown. "Morning. The day is starting now. We will begin our march in an hour. Be ready to go at the gates in forty-five minutes" said the German Solider. Grabbing a blanket, and a slice of bread I exit the food haul. I'm the first to the gate. Through the fence I can see the women I used to share a room with working, but I do not see my
Recently, a 38 year old woman named, Jennifer Teege, discovered that her grandfather was Amon Goeth, the sadistic Nazi who was commandant of the Plaszow concentration camp in Poland and the person who killed more than 8,000 Jews. When Teege was going through depression, she tried doing psychological research at a library, which coincidently, was where she found her biological mother’s book called, "I Have to Love My Father, Don't I?". After realizing this discovery, she could not phantom the fact that she was related to this “monster”. Sometimes, she questions if whether or not she has any traits of him, but learned to accept her history and that they are both two very different people. Throughout Teege’s years, she was born to a Nigerian father who was a student which her mother had an affair with. Since her mother had a lot of work to do, she took Teege to Salberg House, a Catholic home for infants in suburban Munich. She was taken care of for about 3 years, but was adopted and was not able to see her mother until age 21. Now, Teege still sets out to discover more about her family’s history and even wrote books about it as well. In addition, she hopes to find her true identity and expresses that life should not be lived in the past.
Imagine living in a place where you are referred to as a number and not a name. That is exactly what many people, mostly Jews had to experience during 1933 through 1945. “Approximately 11 million people were killed, including one million Jewish children alone. Of the nine million Jews who had resided in Europe before the Holocaust, approximately two-thirds were killed.” One of the survivors was called Elie Wiesel, he was a young boy at that time but now he is fighting for human rights. Wiesel fought for human rights because people were suffering around him, and their rights were violated.
Not much has been going on at camp. Every week a group of people get taken away, and they don’t come back. All the adults say that they are taken to the gates of hell. Brother told me that the people were taken away from Auschwitz and reunited with their families in another place far from here. Mama came here with us, but left us to go to another camp. She told us that we would be reunited in the other place. I believed them with all of my heart.
At Ten P.m on September 23, 2006, my mother Kelli Elizabeth Dicks was hit by a car on Route 146 southbound trying to cross the high speed lane. She was being picked up by a friend. Instead of taking the exit and coming to the other side of the highway, her ride suggested she run across the street. The impact of the car caused her to be thrown 87 feet away from the original impact zone and land in a grassy patch of land, her shoes stayed where she was hit. She was immediately rushed to Rhode Island Hospital where she was treated for serious injuries. When she arrived at the hospital she was rushed into the operating room for an emergency surgery. The amount of injuries she sustained were unbelievable. She broke 18 different bones, lacerated her liver and her spleen, ruptured her bladder, and she collapsed both lungs. When she went in for her emergency operation, and had her
As stated, “The camps were designed to keep Japanese-Americans isolated from the rest of the world in remote areas.” Miné, along with many other Japanese-American internees, were isolated from the world. Miné was dehumanized. ”’As a result of the interview,’ she wrote, ‘My family name was reduced to No. 13660.’” +This act was dehumanizing. The Americans stripped her of her name, a form of her identity, and she became just a number. Despite this, she resisted. As stated, “Internees were not allowed to have cameras but Miné wanted to document what was happening inside the camps.” Miné knew full well what the repercussions of this could have been, but still did
The Nazis knew the war would be over in a matter of days and wanted to slaughter as many Jews as they could before then. The first truck that left was supposed to return to pick up Gerda and a few other girls, but was strafed by an American plane and never came back. Gerda waited for the truck until all of the remaining girls were herded into a factory that was intended to blow up. Gerda was devastated that she had hoped all those years she would be free again and was now going to die. As Gerda’s luck would have it, Czechs from the town they were in rushed inside and told the girls to run.
The final piece of her father’s identity as a prison guard is hiding from his past. Concealing past identities is a common practice for people who have committed atrocities. After the Holocaust, thousands of Nazis escaped to the Americas. Seven notorious Nazis fled to South America, and two of them eluded punishment for the remainder of their lives (Klein). However, in order for Nazis to remain undiscovered, their past lives had to remain hidden from society.
I didn’t tell my brother what I saw. At 7 Mr Hecker told us to all get up and get into our work clothes, our work clothes were bright orange. The move was confusing, frustrating and confusing. All the children and adults had to stand in long lines, eating and going to the bathroom. This camp was located in a type of desolated, inhospitable area; the camp was prison, like with barbed wire and guards in watch towers, lots of people not always family members, shared small living spaces and, again, public areas served internment people’s needs.... ... middle of paper ... ...
Ever since I was a little girl I always wanted my life to be like the ones in movies, but sadly it was not. Having one parent wasn't easy, but my dad did his best to be a great father. My parents separated when I was 7 years old and that was when my childhood changed. Growing up with no mother was difficult, in fact, I felt left out when I would be around my friends because they had both of their parents and did family things together and I didn't. It was very depressing for me because I felt like I was different from everyone else. I also felt like I couldn't do anything or go far with my future goals because I didn't get much support like others did. I never found it easy, but I’m glad I had a father that stood by my side through thick and
I was thirteen when my mom was diagnosed with depression. She never told me why she fell victim, but I always knew it was because my dad was a heavy drinker. My mom fell in and out of her depression periodically and I was always there for her as she had always been there for me. My environment growing up was not the best, but it is what molded the determined, focused, and motivated person I am now.
I knew I didn 't have mother but little mind always felt the scarcity of mother love. I kept on watching my nephew and ices while my sister- in law wrapped them around by her arms, changed their clothes and make them laugh. I was bit older than them and used to be away from them looking and gazing on them and feeling the love of mother. My clothiers were ragged on the right arms. I used to change myself. I hardly remember my age I should be the age of seven years.
Shmuel and I talked almost everyday since I met him, the day I climbed over the fence onto the other side was the day after he couldn’t find his dad. All I wanted to do was help him find the only person he had left, but I lost mine life doing so. When I climbed over the fence there were nazis (like my father) everywhere, two of them took me and Shmuel and pushed us towards a crowed of people also in striped pajamas. I had no idea what was going on
"No, I'm sorry your grandfather will never be strong enough to withhold surgery." I heard from a deep voiced man standing across the room from my mom and I. When I was younger I lived with my mom and grandparents. My mom was a young, working, single mother with an alcohol addiction. My grandparents helped her tremendously. They were like a second set of parents just a little bit better because they would give me chocolate milk, the real chocolate milk! My grandma was a little sick but she still did everything for everyone. She taught me how to cook, bake, sew, garden and also how to swim. My grandpa on the other hand was my best buddy! Everywhere he went I went whether it was to the store, down the street to a neighbors house, or even to mow
Ever wonder what your life would be like if you lost one of your parents? Growing up with a single mother losing my mom was always my biggest fear. Although growing up without a father figure in my life was challenging, overall it made me a stronger, more independent woman.
In my formative years, I am sad to admit that I was the most critical of my mother. We suffered from what experts would identify as ‘mutual incomprehensibility’, and I believe at times we still do; however, as I grow more and more into woman hood and our bond has been strengthened with experience, I have had the amazing opportunity to gain a true sense of my mother and have come to admire her in many ways ( though she probably doesn 't believe me). For whatever reason, I once found solace in reducing all my problems as some fault of my mother’s inability to prepare me for adulthood. Instead of seeking advice and wisdom, I rebelled! Looking back, I now realize she only wanted to protect me, to help me, but as a teen that felt like control