Topography of Terror // What Could Have Been

Topography of Terror. The name itself is haunting. Dismal. On a dreary day like today it just makes the building all the more poretentous.

I want to make it clear that I am not trying to victimize myself in the following post. I have lived an incredibly privileged life that I'm thankful and grateful for every day. This is about what could have been.

Simply put, I would not exist today if the Nazi Party had won.

Had WWII had a different outcome, Jews, Gypsies, and anyone not fitting of the "Arian mold" could have been eradicated from this world. I want that to sound intense. That needs to make an impact.

If this was still going on a measly 20-30 years later there is no doubt that I wouldn't exist.

I'm about to get personal - forgive me.

My mom is/was Prespetarian. My dad is/was Jewish. (I use "is/was" because we are a non-practicing, non-religious household. These are the religions my parents grew up with, respectively. If you were to ask either of them today where they stand they would probably tell you they're agnostics or Unitarian Universalists, as I was raised.)

If this was still going on a measly 20-30 years later the likelihood of my parents even meeting let alone falling in love, marrying, or having a child is absurd. I saw the pictures of the women being humiliated in the town square - their heads shaved - shaming signs around their necks - paraded through the crowd - sentenced to jail time - because they loved someone they were told they couldn't. This could have been my mother. The man who could have been my father - hung, or worse sent to a labor camp.

This is all clearly fictional and maybe dramatic, but had outside forces not come to aid and end WWII  in the 1940's this could have been reality. I want that to sink in.

Maybe because I have Jewish ancestry (although I do not consider myself a Jew - or a Christian for that matter) it strikes a chord with me. It resonates with me deeply. My Jewish family was fortunate enough to have emigrated to the U.S. well before WWII. In fact, my Jewish grandfather was in the United States Air Force fighting the Nazis at this time. He never talked about it. He died quite a few years ago at 92, never wanting to discuss his thoughts on the matter. He once said to me it's better to stay quiet. I don't know if I believe that, but I also respect his decision to keep things to himself. I'm sure he had his reasons.

This post is messy.
It's a conglomeration of thoughts after walking on the foundation of the SS military base. This is where government leaders decided when and how to kill my ancestors. It makes my stomach hurt.

It makes me all the more grateful for the current life I'm fortunate enough to have.

I don't pray.
I don't count my blessings.
I will never take what I have and where I can go from here for granted.