Wherever you are, our Survivors and Liberators are ready to address your school, congregation and civic group.


Idaho Anne Frank Human Rights Memorial, Boise, Idaho


The nationwide health crisis should not stop you from planning a presentation by our Survivors and Liberators. 

Through Skype in the Classroom, in cooperation with Microsoft, or in person, we can bring the latest in Holocaust education to you.  Contact us at info@hamec.org or 215-464-4701.

Hate never takes a vacation and neither do we.

Due to the coronavirus emergency, we have suspended live presentations.  However, our presentations by Skype will continue.  Plan ahead.  You can still book future programs.

Facing the music of the Holocaust in Turkey


Renan Koen first sat at a piano in Theresienstadt in 2018. For seven years prior, she played compositions written by internees at the hybrid concentration camp and ghetto near Terezin, the Czech fortress town that was occupied by Germans in World War II.

After 2018, she began making annual pilgrimages from Istanbul to this ghostly Czech town to hear its trees whisper between silences before performing lecture concerts from her 2015 album “Holocaust Remembrance / Before Sleep.”

“I really understood better, more deeply,” said Koen, an award-winning classical pianist and music therapist from Istanbul who started to honor her Jewish heritage with her 2014 album of Ladino songs, “Lost Traces, Hidden Memories.”

She advocates for Holocaust awareness in Turkey and beyond by performing the works of Jewish composers Gideon Klein, Viktor Ullman, Zikmund Schul and Pavel Haas, none of whom survived Nazi rule. “I understood the tempos more, the pace of life, where they walked.”

To commemorate International Holocaust Remembrance Day on Jan. 27, Koen flew to New York to perform her “Holocaust Remembrance / Before Sleep” lecture concert under the auspices of the Permanent Mission of Turkey to the United Nations.

Before performing, her speech at the UN headquarters referred to the “brave Turkish diplomats who have saved the lives of many Jews,” just after Turkey’s permanent representative to the UN Feridun Sinirlioglu said, “Many righteous Turkish diplomats didn’t hesitate to risk their lives to save thousands of Jews.”

Sinirlioglu, a former ambassador of Turkey to Israel, likely knew that Yad Vashem – The World Holocaust Remembrance Center has only named one Turkish national as a member of the Righteous Among the Nations, Israel’s official list of non-Jews who risked their lives to save Jews during the Holocaust. The only Turkish citizen named is Selahattin Ulkumen, who served as consul-general of Rhodes under German occupation.

Sinirlioglu and Koen left out a darker side to Turkey’s history with the Holocaust. While multiple Turkish diplomats leveraged their power to save Jewish lives, reportedly less than a hundred at a time, they were exceptions when Nazism, anti-Semitism and even Aryanism overwhelmingly influenced Turkish public policy and foreign affairs during World War II.

According to academic Corry Guttstadt, author of the “Turkey, the Jews and the Holocaust,” waves of legislation that passed in Turkey in 1938 followed Nazi anti-Jewish measures, particularly “Secret Decree No. 2/9498.”

“Beginning around the time the secret decree was issued, Turkey began to reject Jewish refugees even if they had passports. Turkish consulates demanded proof of ‘Aryan descent’ before granting an entry visa to Turkey,” Guttstadt wrote in the second volume of a book series published in 2016 by the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA), “Bystanders, Rescuers or Perpetrators? The Neutral Countries and the Shoah.”

For another academic, Rifat Bali, the statements by Koen and Sinirlioglu at the UN are emblematic of a tradition of miseducation about the Holocaust in Turkey.

“These are sweeping generalizations and exaggerations. This is part of the propaganda, where you repeat one false story thousands of times,” said Bali, publisher of Libra Books and the author of “Holocaust Consumption in Turkey: 1989-2017,” where he openly critiques Koen and her “Holocaust Remembrance / Before Sleep” project.

Since the 1980s, the government line of Holocaust reconciliation in Turkey is essentially a rescue myth, beginning in 1492, when Sultan Bayezid II invited Jews expelled from Spain to settle in the Ottoman Empire. History skews with the two points that follow, when praising Turkey for protecting Jewish refugees from the Nuremberg Laws, enacted by the Nazis to exclude German Jews from intermarriage and Reich citizenship, and the Final Solution, a policy of annihilation that resulted in the murder of 6 million Jews in Europe.

The refusal of Albert Einstein’s 1933 letter to Turkey, asking the Turkish Republic to accept 40 Jewish academics from Germany who would forgo remunerations for the first year, is a famous example of Turkey’s noncompliant neutrality.

For researchers Guttstadt, I. Izzet Bahar and Ilker Ayturk, the reality was grimmer.

In the IHRA volume, “Bystanders, Rescuers or Perpetrators?” Guttstadt and Bahar, along with colleagues Pinar Dost-Niyego and Nora Seni provide ample evidence for Turkey’s revocation of citizenship from Turkish Jews in Europe during Hitler’s rise.

“The examination of Turkish Ministry of Foreign Affairs documents reveals that during World War II, the Turkish government did not have any intention or make any attempts to protect the Jews of Turkish origin living in German-occupied Western Europe,” wrote Bahar, whose analysis of diplomatic correspondence also concluded that “Ankara was aware of the lethal conditions of the ongoing deportations to Eastern Europe.”

A slew of legislation had barred Turkish Jews from returning to Turkey, starting with the Turkish Citizenship Law of 1928, which effectively labeled about half of some 20,000 Turkish Jews in Europe as “irregular,” therefore illegible for repatriation. And for the approximately 75,000 Jews in Turkey, the socio-economic horizon had never been dimmer.

Despite the fact that certain Jewish academics did work in Turkey after 1933 — such as literary scholar Eric Auerbach and Assyriology expert Benno Landsberger — the 1932 Law on Activities and Professions in Turkey Reserved for Turkish Citizens made it hard for non-Turkish citizens to work in Turkey.

Still, as Guttstadt pointed out in the opening paragraphs of her chapter in the IHRA book — titled, “Turkey – Welcoming Jewish Refugees?” — Turkey accepted some 600 Jewish exiles from Germany between 1933 and 1939. The rise of Nazism coincided with Turkey’s push to modernize its universities, which required employing specialists from abroad, including 130 scholars the Nazis discriminated against for being Jewish.

In her 2020 paper, “Rescue or Rejection: Turkey’s Policies Towards Jews During the Holocaust,” published with the University of Sofia, Guttstadt outlined how the Settlement Law of 1934, passed that June, preceded pogroms in Thrace that raged until July, as some 15,000 Jews fled vandalization, rape and humiliation. The Wealth Tax of 1942, she argued, led to the expulsion of 1,870 mostly non-Muslim laborers to Askale, where 21 people died under the harsh conditions near the Russian border.

“Turkish Jews were particularly harshly hit by the tax, which impoverished many middle-class Jews, while those who could not pay the tax were sent to labor camps in eastern Turkey,” agree Ilker Ayturk and Dost-Niyego in their 2016 paper, “Holocaust Education in Turkey: Past, Present and Future.”

While it is clear that Koen is not a historian by discipline, she remains a prominent educator in the field of Holocaust awareness in Turkey, prompting initiatives with the Jewish Museum of Turkey and nongovernmental organizations like Civil and Ecological Rights Association (SEHAK).

“If you’re asking me what it’s like to work with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, they’re very respectful about this issue [of Holocaust remembrance],” Koen said firmly, speaking at an Istanbul cafe not far from where she went to secondary school. “They don’t instrumentalize the issue. This is very important for me.”

As an independent artist, Koen collaborates with the Turkish Ministry of Foreign Affairs and such state sponsors as Turkish Airlines willingly, to the bafflement of critics like Bali, who has spent much of his career in letters exposing the persistence of anti-Semitism in Turkey. Yet looking back on his prolific body of work, which includes nearly 50 books and countless academic references, he determines that it has all amounted to nothing.

“If Koen is making positive headlines occasionally, I think that’s great,” Ayturk told Al-Monitor in an email. “There is no doubt that Turkey’s newly found interest in the Holocaust and desperate attempts to become a full member of IHRA are motivated by Turkey’s past with the Armenians and to curry favor with international public opinion by showcasing how (very few) Turkish diplomats helped Jews during the Holocaust.”

In their paper, “Holocaust Education in Turkey,” Ayturk and Dost-Niyego analyze Turkey’s bid for IHRA membership as a pivot to influence public opinion and international lobbyists by paying lip service to anti-Semitism and the Holocaust.

“I never play without an explanation. I start from the Holocaust,” Koen told Al-Monitor, about her “Holocaust Remembrance / Before Sleep” lecture concerts, which she also brings to students ages 11-17 in Turkey, and abroad, having traveled from the favelas of Brazil to Turkish schools in Germany. “The non-Jewish kids are more important for me because the Jewish schools can reach the source of history. The other doesn’t know.”

Koen teaches Holocaust awareness through music therapy. After playing compositions written in Theresienstadt, she asks her students to dialogue. She takes youth groups to Theresienstadt annually to compose music, write and make art in response to their experience, an initiative she calls “March of the Music,” to enact “Positive Resistance,” a concept she coined.

“My daughter goes to an Italian school. One of her subjects was the Holocaust in 5th grade. But with [Turkish] schools here this is really hard because it is not part of the curricula. When we talk about the Holocaust most of the time it is their first time,” Nisya Isman Allovi, director of the Jewish Museum of Turkey, told Al-Monitor.

The Jewish Museum of Turkey hosts schools, mostly imam-hatip religious students who have never encountered Jews or their history.

“At the Holocaust section [of the Jewish Museum of Turkey] we exhibit stories of diplomats who saved Turkish Jews, their passports, train tickets, the 1934 Thrace pogroms, and also prepare special exhibits,” said Allovi, who noted the museum’s display on the 1942 Struma disaster, referring to the Soviets’ sinking a ship carrying nearly 800 Jewish refugees after Istanbul refused it to port.

Koen plans to release an album with the Italian label Sheva Collection, featuring the students she has brought with her to Theresienstadt. They have prepared a new arrangement of a Gideon Klein string trio. The composer’s microtonal approach is also reflected in the music of Turkish composer Necil Kazım Akses, who studied with Alois Haba alongside Klein.

“If a person is not at peace individually, the community can’t be at peace. That’s why it’s very important to tell this history very transparently,” said Koen, who is currently performing a series of online concerts broadcast by the Turkish Jewish Community’s social media.


Matt A. Hanson is a freelance journalist and art writer based in Istanbul, Turkey.

Artificial intelligence project lets Holocaust survivors share their stories forever



Millions perished in the Holocaust, but a group of survivors will now be able to live on, at least via real-time video conversations about their experiences and perspectives, forever. In an innovative attempt to harness the artificial intelligence technologies of the present and the future to keep alive the stories of the past, Holocaust survivors may be the first people ever to be able to continue carrying on conversations (virtually, at least) even after their deaths. Lesley Stahl reports on this fascinating project on the next edition of 60 Minutes, Sunday, April 5 at 7 p.m., ET/PT on CBS.

Heather Maio had worked for years on Holocaust-related exhibits and knew that “Schindler’s List” director Steven Spielberg had created the Shoah Foundation to record the testimonies of thousands of Holocaust survivors. But Maio wanted to create something more interactive. “I wanted to talk to a Holocaust survivor like I would today, with that person sitting right in front of me,” she told Stahl. Maio believed that artificial intelligence technology could make her notion realizable, so she pitched her idea to Stephen Smith, the executive director of the USC Shoah Foundation in Los Angeles, and now her husband.

Smith was intrigued, but some of his colleagues initially feared it could cheapen, or “Disney-fy” the Holocaust. “We had a lot of pushback on this project,” Smith said. “‘Is it the right thing to do… Are we trying to keep them alive beyond their deaths?’ Everyone had questions except for one group of people, the survivors themselves, who said, ‘Where do I sign up?'”

So far, more than 20 interviews, including one with a 93-year-old U.S. Army veteran who helped liberate a concentration camp, have been recorded. Each subject spends a full five days answering questions in an attempt to record responses to every question conceivable. The questions are then logged and alternative questions are entered into the database. Each interview is recorded with more than 20 cameras so that as technology advances and 3D, hologram-type display becomes the norm, all required angles will be available.

Three of the survivors interviewed have since died. One of them was Eva Kor, who appeared on 60 Minutes in 1992 to tell her story of having been experimented on, along with her identical twin sister, by Nazi S.S. physician Josef Mengele. Kor died last summer, but using the Shoah foundation’s technology, Stahl was able to conduct another 60 Minutes interview with Kor’s digital image. What was Mengele like? “He had a gorgeous face, a movie star face, and very pleasant, actually,” Kors’ digital image told Stahl. “Dark hair, dark eyes. When I looked into his eyes, I could see nothing but evil. People say that the eyes are the center of the soul, and in Mengele’s case, that was correct.”

Stahl interviewed the first Holocaust survivor filmed for the project, Pinchas Gutter, who was sent to the Majdanek concentration camp at age 11 and was the only member of his family to survive. Gutter was asked some 2,000 questions. Stahl spoke to him in person, but she also spoke to his digital image, which can now be seen in Holocaust museums in Dallas, Indiana and Illinois, where visitors can ask him their own questions. As many may wonder far into the future, Stahl asked Gutter how he can still have faith in God after the horrors he experienced. “How can you possibly not believe in God?” Gutter’s digital image replied. “God gave human beings the knowledge of right and wrong and he allowed them to do what they wished on this earth, to find their own way. To my mind, when God sees what human beings are up to, especially things like genocide, he weeps.”

A message on Passover and Easter

As we approach this special week for our friends who celebrate Easter or Passover, once again events have reminded us of the fragility of life, the strength of the human spirit and the heroism and sacrifice of many.
Those of us who celebrate Passover recount at Seders the Exodus from slavery in Egypt and tell the story of Moses leading his people to the Promised Land–a land where he would not to able to reside.  Those of us who celebrate Easter tell the story of Jesus throughout Holy Week which ends with his death on Good Friday and resurrection on Easter Sunday.
For all of our differences in religious beliefs, there are strong similarities in our humanity.  In fact the Last Supper held on Holy Thursday was a Seder.
So as the holiday season begins, we at the Holocaust Awareness Museum and Education Center remind all our supporters of the importance of friends, family and our mission to make this a better and less hate filled world.  We will continue, led by our modern day heroes–our survivors, our mission.
                                                                                 Chuck Feldman
                                                                                 President  HAMEC

We teens are combating the pandemic by befriending our elders

By TESS LEVY and CHARLIE NEVINS, Jewish Journal, April 1, 2020.  Click for full report.

Charlie Nevins Face Times with Holocaust Survivor Leon Malmed on March 31, 2020. Photo courtesy of The Righteous Conversations Project

As teenagers, it is hard to comprehend the irreparable mark this coronavirus will have on our generation. We are in the middle of a tremendous shift away from our normal routine: online school, 17th and 18th birthday parties over Zoom. The city we’ve grown up in suddenly is a ghost town. These new realities will define this time period.

Yet, it is hard to deny the tremendous privilege we have to be able to quarantine with our families and have online access to our friends. In reality, these obstacles we face are insignificant compared to those faced by elderly people forced into isolation, often by themselves or with a single family member. This isolation can be lonely and alienating, especially for Holocaust survivors, who, to an extent, already are isolated from society due to their traumatic history.

The Righteous Conversations Project, a program of Remember Us, was founded in 2011 to connect Holocaust survivors and teens through filmmaking, writing and face-to-face meetings. Remember Us unites these two generations to carry on the stories of the Holocaust, knowing they are more than a series of events that can be printed in a textbook — they are lessons of strength and bravery that must be carried on. Now, more than ever, this mission is crucial, both to protect the legacies of the survivors and to provide comfort in a time of unimaginable loneliness.

As high schoolers, we are overwhelmed by the abundance of time suddenly presented to us. With the seemingly endless library of TV shows to binge-watch, it is easy to get sucked out of reality. But these enticing options are mind-numbing and pull us further and further away from reality. Instead of bingeing on a Netflix show, we could look at this excess of time as an opportunity to engage with those members of our community who are most isolated.

As members of the Remember Us Teen Board, we have learned firsthand how fulfilling and transformative a relationship with a Holocaust survivor can be.

As members of the Remember Us Teen Board, we have learned firsthand how fulfilling and transformative a relationship with a Holocaust survivor can be. Hearing their stories is life-changing, but perhaps what has surprised us even more are the small intersections we find between generations. We all have a song that transports us back to our childhood and the friend who showed compassion to us in a time of need. Personally, we know these unexpected connections can mean the world to both the teen and the survivor, serving as a reminder of the universality of the human experience.

That’s why Remember Us is creating a new initiative to pair teens and survivors for daily check-ins over the phone. We hope our generation will not let the physical limitations of quarantine impair our ability to reach out to this vulnerable generation of Holocaust survivors and make the life-changing connections with them that we know are possible.

[See Oseh Shalom from The Righteous Conversations Project on Vimeo.]

If you, too, feel the need to reach out and make a difference in these survivors’ lives, please contact Remember Us. Whether you are a rabbi, principal or parent and are in a position to extend this opportunity to someone in your life, or you are a high schooler and are curious to participate yourself, contact us so we can begin building a network of connections as soon as possible. We hope that with your help, we, together, can succeed in providing a source of light in a time of darkness for many survivors. ​If you are a Holocaust survivor or a Jewish elder looking to receive these calls​, we would love to connect you to our program. We also are developing a program to assist our community’s elders in sharing their memories and reflections for posterity.

Tess Levy​ ​is president of the Remember Us Teen Board 2019-20 and a senior at Windward School. Levy has been accepted to Yale University and is a member of the Kehillat Israel community. Charlie Nevins​ ​is a member of the Remember Us Teen Board and a Righteous Conversations Project intern and teacher. Nevins is a junior at Crossroads School in Santa Monica and a founding member of the UNICEF Young Ambassador Program, as well as a member of the IKAR community.

To contact Remember Us, email ​samara@remember-us.org​ or call (310) 463-8863.

HAMEC reaches out to Survivors during Coronavirus emergency

HAMEC staff and volunteers have initiated a social isolation call program, to keep in touch with our Survivor speakers. It is more important than ever to stay connected as we all practice social distancing. Our staff has drawn up a schedule where each survivor will receive several calls a week from our staff and facilitators. We’re partnered with Jewish Family and Children services to make sure that we will be able to appropriately and quickly respond to any requests for assistance or emergency needs.

‘Forgotten’ Nazi camp on British soil revealed by archaeologists



The entrance gates to the Nazi concentration camp Sylt are among the few visible remains left of the camp on the Alderney in the Channel Islands, part of the British Crown Dependency known as the Bailiwick of Guernsey.

Photograph by Les Gibbon, Alamy

Today, the site of the former concentration camp Sylt is an overgrown patch of land hard against the rugged cliffs of Alderney, part of a British Crown Dependency in the Channel Islands. But just 75 years ago, it was a feared and heavily guarded German prison where hundreds of men suffered and died at the hands of their Nazi captors on its soil.

With the end of the war, Lager (camp) Sylt and other smaller German camps on Alderney were dismantled and slowly faded into the landscape. Now, a British team of archaeologists has reconstructed Lager Sylt and tracked how it grew over its short but brutal history. Their research is published today in the journal Antiquity.

Caroline Sturdy Colls, an archaeologist with expertise in Holocaust sites and lead author on the study, says the evidence for the crimes committed at Lager Sylt has been “physically and metaphorically buried.”


“As a British citizen and a researcher, I hadn’t heard about the atrocities perpetrated on Alderney during World War II until I was doing my Ph.D. research,” says Sturdy Colls, who is now a professor of conflict archaeology and genocide investigation at Staffordshire University in England. “I had a wider awareness of the fact that the Germans occupied the Channel Islands, but not really that they built those camps.”

Sturdy Colls and her colleagues wanted to explore how forensic archaeological methods could bring to light this history. They began studying Lager Sylt in 2010, combining evidence from archival records, historic aerial photographs, and new non-invasive survey techniques like LiDAR and ground-penetrating radar.


One important aspect of the research was simply proving that much of the camp indeed survives today. The wartime history of the site remains a taboo subject on the island. Sturdy Colls says some residents of Alderney had been supportive. But the team has faced resistance to their work from local authorities, especially after a 2019 documentary titled “Adolf Island” featured her study of the camp and claims that there might be as-yet unaccounted for mass graves at the World War II-era cemetery.




A forgotten camp


After France fell to the Nazis in June 1940, the British government decided that it would be too difficult to defend their self-governing territories in the Channel Islands, the archipelago between France and England. While many civilians remained on Jersey and Guernsey, the largest of the Channel islands, nearly all of Alderney’s residents were evacuated. The Germans encountered no resistance when they arrived on the three-square-mile island that July.


Under occupation, the Channel Islands became part of the Nazis’ “Atlantic Wall” coastal defense system stretching along the western edge of Europe. To build Alderney’s fortifications, the Nazi engineering group Organisation Todt established several forced- and slave-labor camps on the island. Most prisoners in the camps were from Ukraine, Poland, Russia and other Soviet territories, but there was also a significant contingent of French Jews. In March 1943, Lager Sylt—already Alderney’s most feared labor camp—became a concentration camp run by the “Death’s Head Unit” of the SS paramilitary.


After the war, as civilians returned to Alderney and began rebuilding their lives, the British military investigated the abandoned and partially demolished camps. The investigators mapped what remained of Lager Sylt and compiled accounts from witnesses of dog attacks, beatings, and shootings. They found that when a prisoner died, the camp doctor was often barred from seeing the body and ordered to sign pre-printed death certificates, usually with the cause of death listed as “faulty circulation” or “heart failure.” At a cemetery on the island, the investigators found a coffin with a false bottom.


Further prisoner testimonies in the decades that followed helped illustrate the inhuman treatment prisoners experienced. Francisco Font, a Spanish Republican and forced laborer at one of the other camps on Alderney, recalled that while doing work near Sylt, he saw a “man strung up” on the main gate. “On his chest he had a sign on which was written: ‘for stealing bread,’” Font says in a recording kept at an archive in Jersey. “His body was left hanging like this for four days.”


The Nazis rountinely fed their prisoners the bare minimum, but because rough seas sometimes prevented regular deliveries to the Channel Islands, even that alotted food could be in short supply, says historian Paul Sanders. Due to the combination of scarcity and corruption among the SS officers, “even less food found its way to the prisoners than it did in other parts of occupied Europe” says Sanders, who is author of The British Channel Islands Under German Occupation 1940-45. Adding to this “particularly lethal constellation” of conditions in Alderney was the lack of civilian witnesses.


“It makes a difference for the perpetrators if they’re being watched by the civilian population,” Sanders says. “The fact that there was no set of civilian eyes watching what was going on in Alderney led to a much more profoundly brutal environment.”



Rediscovering Sylt


In the new study, Sturdy Colls and her team found physical evidence supporting witness accounts of harsh conditions at Sylt. They mapped the surviving shallow depressions of the barracks at the camp, confirming witness reports of overcrowding; each prisoner would have had just 16 square feet of space at best. Through the course of removing vegetation from the site, they uncovered the prisoners’ toilets. The team made virtual-reality visualizations for a clearer view of features—such as an underground tunnel leading from the commandant’s house to the camp—that were difficult to see in the field due to bad lighting conditions.


Using historic aerial images, the researchers also tracked how both the size and security measures of Lager Sylt drastically increased when it evolved from a labor camp to a concentration camp in 1943.


The SS, for instance, went to great lengths to outfit Lager Sylt with imposing fences and guard towers, which surely had a profound psychological effect on the inmates.

“In a way, it didn’t need any of those things because it was on a corner of a small island surrounded by minefields,” Sturdy Colls says. “There was nowhere for any of these prisoners to go.”


Remembering Sylt


How the legacy of Lager Sylt and Alderney under Nazi occupation should be presented is still a matter of debate. One of the few clearly visible elements that remain of the camp is the main gate. Today it is marked with just a small plaque, placed there in a ceremony in 2008 at the request of former prisoners.


Proposals to excavate at Lager Sylt have thus far been denied, Sturdy Colls says, which has made her team’s no-dig, forensic study of the Sylt site all the more important.

“We’re not the first people to discover this camp existed—but despite all those testimonies and despite all those previous efforts, the history of the site was still not known, ” Sturdy Colls says.




The work we did was trying to help the stories of the people who suffered be known more widely.”


“In my opinion, the paper will be useful in helping the island of Alderney to see the extent of traces of Lager Sylt left in the landscape and therefore to think again about how the camp might be used in the island’s heritage strategy in the future,” says Gillian Carr, an archaeologist at the University of Cambridge. Carr has studied the occupation of the Channel Islands but was not involved in this recent study.


In late 2017, the Alderney government did formally designate Lager Sylt a conservation area, barring development that would threaten the site. Graham McKinley, an elected Member (legislator) of the States of Alderney, says he would like to see the Lager Sylt site made more accessible to visitors. He’s trying to re-establish a heritage committee that would explore how the location could be studied, preserved and made into a memorial site.


“There is still a small group of people who want to put the past behind them and continue without looking into it too much,” says McKinley. “I believe we should be doing a lot more to show the world what actually happened here.”


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