My brain just couldn't process what had unfolded on this very ground. We spent the better part of the day here -- in silence.
And I came home with less than a handful of pictures. The truth is, I didn't want to photograph it. It seemed too sacred to lug a camera into a gas chamber or to the site of an executioner's block. I didn't want to photograph human hair. Children's shoes. Luggage from all of the people who thought that they would need it for the trip home. It didn't feel right.
So, I held Dennis' hand and we walked and read quietly. We prayed for the families effected by this plague. We prayed for the dark hearts of the men and women who played a part in making Auschwitz-Birkenau the largest concentration/extermination camp of it's kind.