I stood there looking at the photograph my student held in his hand. He explained that he was one of the soldiers who helped liberate one of the Nazi concentration camps during World War II.
It was his horrible reminder of the cruelty suffered by so many men, women, and children in ill-fated lands. The photograph showed a railroad coal car piled to the top with gaunt bodies. I can never forget seeing those elbows, legs, and torsos mingled in the sadness of a grotesque death disarray.
For a moment, looking at the photograph, I found myself in my Grandfather Link’s home on a Sunday evening. Our family always spent Sunday afternoons there during my childhood. Before returning home in the evening, we would gather around the radio in the living room.
The harsh voice of a shouting man was broadcast and it frightened me. He sounded mean. I remember hunching my shoulders and shivering when I was told he was Adolph Hitler. Listening to grownup conversations, we children knew that was a dreaded name.
I thanked my student for showing me the photograph and for serving our Country. As he walked away with the photograph, I thought of another voice heard on those Sunday evenings of long ago. When Kate Smith sang, “God Bless America”, we were encouraged to face the hard times that cruel men and railroad coal cars would bring into our lives.