Once while in a coffee shop in New York I had a copy of Hitler’s Priest on the table. An elderly woman with a heavy accent asked me what was the book about? After a few minutes she rolled up her sleeve and showed me the tattoo she had received as a child at Theresenstadt. She lost her father ,brother and many other relatives who were transported to Auschwitz. She and her mother were rescued at the end of the war, and ultimately she made her way to America. Despite the horrors of her childhood she assured me that she had a remarkable life.
Yesterday I received a note from her and I will share part of it.”Salvatore I think of you often and have given your wonderful book to my family and friends. You and I are “memory keepers” and as long as we live we must remind the world of those that did not survive.I am aware that hatred is like a wild weed that continues to grow despite constantly trying to kill it. There are new hatreds, and I hear words that I heard as a child in Germany.It is the love and commitment of the”memory keepers” that must respond every day to show there is a better way for people to live.”