91制片厂

The inside of the railway car was cramped. Some 26-feet long, 7-feet high, and almost 9-feet wide, it was barely big enough for Curtis White '16, who stood alone inside the car on display at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum last November.

He thought about the pictures he鈥檇 seen earlier that semester in professor 鈥檚 classroom of the railway cars the Nazis used to transport European Jews and others to the death camps during the Holocaust. He thought about how dozens of people were herded into each car until it was packed to bursting. They had no food, no water, no sanitary provisions. The doors were sealed; in the winter, the prisoners inside froze, and in the summer, they sweltered.

White pictured himself among the captives, the empty car suddenly, painfully, full. He imagined the weight of the Nazi machine bearing down on him, a nation and an ideology committed to his destruction. Alone in the boxcar, he wondered what it might have been like to be stripped of his humanity, to be marked for death.

He lingered inside the railcar for a few moments more and then walked out into a hall.

鈥淚 felt emotionally beat-up,鈥� he says. 鈥淚t was as if I鈥檇 been punched in the heart.鈥�

White鈥檚 experience at the museum was due in part to Diefendorf, who encourages his students to visit the museum and see first-hand the Holocaust鈥檚 toll and the evil ideology that made it possible. But the trip itself was made possible thanks to a gift to the university from Gordon and Nancy Vickers '77.

White鈥檚 revelation was something of an echo of an experience Gordon Vickers had as a child. He was 12 years old and delivered the New York Times each morning in his Nashua, N.H. neighborhood. On his route were Dan and Clara Sklar; one weekend, they asked him to deliver their Sunday edition of the Times last. When he did, they shared their story.

鈥淭hey were both concentration camp survivors,鈥� Gordon says. 鈥淒an and Clara had tattoos 鈥� they were numbers in the concentration camp.鈥�

Gordon Vickers was stunned. He knew about the Holocaust from history class in school, but he didn鈥檛 know anyone who鈥檇 directly experienced it. Seeing the Sklars's tattoos and hearing what they experienced in the camp was revelatory. Even now, he chokes up when talking about it.

鈥淚t was just shocking to me, how people could be treated like cattle,鈥� he says. 鈥淎nd the real question is, how do we stop that from happening again?鈥�

For Gordon, education is the answer. Classes like Diefendorf鈥檚, augmented with a visit to the museum, make history personal and encourage people to speak up and oppose hatred and injustice.

鈥淲hen I was young, the Holocaust was still fresh in people鈥檚 minds,鈥� Gordon says. 鈥淏ut now, subsequent generations have kind of lost track of it. And we鈥檝e got to keep this in mind, because it鈥檚 still going on.鈥�

Diefendorf agrees. When European Jews were sent to the concentration camps, the Nazis confiscated their belongings 鈥� suitcases, eyeglasses, shoes, everything 鈥� and sent the items back to Germany, where they were given to soldiers and their families. It鈥檚 one thing to show students a photo of one of Auschwitz鈥檚 storage areas during a lecture, Diefendorf says. It鈥檚 another to see in person a display of those confiscated items.

鈥淚t provides an emotional response you just don鈥檛 get in class,鈥� he says.

Holocaust survivors and their descendants often visit the museum, and during one of his own trips, Diefendorf recalls standing next to an elderly woman as she looked at a photo. 鈥淪he pointed to a man in the photo and said, 鈥楾hat鈥檚 the person who saved my mother,鈥欌�� he says.

The museum helps establish those personal connections. It fosters in students like White profound moments of empathy and serves as a stark reminder that the roots of the Holocaust 鈥� anti-Semitism, racism and institutionalized bigotry of all stripes 鈥� continue to plague every nation.

鈥淲e鈥檙e grateful the university has given us this opportunity to reconnect with 91制片厂 on a personal level. It鈥檚 very rewarding,鈥� Nancy Vickers says.

Though his day at the museum was intense, White is happy he went. A 27-year-old senior and member of the Air National Guard, White says his awareness has grown. He has a heightened sense of discrimination and intolerance and a better understanding of how a group of people can be stripped of their humanity and made into an 鈥渙ther鈥� because of their race, ethnicity or anything else that sets them apart. And, most importantly, Diefendorf鈥檚 class and the trip to the museum have given him the courage to speak up when he comes face to face with hatred.

鈥淚t鈥檚 given me a bigger heart,鈥� he says.

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Originally published by:

The College Letter, the newsletter of the 91制片厂 College of Liberal Arts