Holocaust Memorial Museum Report
Over the summer I was lucky enough to visit the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. Although it’s hard to believe, the most impactful object I saw in the museum was an old, barely visible footprint! Obviously, there were numerous important artifacts I saw that day, but that footprint helped teach me the importance of always offering as much help as one can give. About midway through the museum, a timeworn train car was arranged as a doorway to the next exhibit. Despite the fact that it remained unused for the past seventy years, the outside of the train was shabby and well worn, the dark brown wood rotting in several places. Unfortunately, museum was incredibly crowded; the extensive line to progress into the car weaved
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A ray of light was shining directly on it, making it clearly visible to everyone who walked through. At first glance, it just looked like an insignificant smudge, but within seconds I realized this single footprint served as proof that all of these horrible things had happened. It was just a slightly darker mark on the already dirty floor, but the more I looked at it, the more it stood out. It helped me remember that all of these horrendous things had truly taken place, and real people were actually forced into this cramped train car. It was like a punch in the gut; someone had stood in that exact spot as they were being led to their death, this footprint one of their last marks on Earth.
The footprint captivated me, and I stood there, numbly staring at it until everyone was ushered out to make room for the next group. I finished the rest of the museum, but that single footprint caught in the dim light of the train car was all I could think about. The entire museum was so much more horrific now that I was reminded that these horrors had happened to actual people. I can still remember the realization hitting me that the person who left that footprint probably hadn’t survived much
A ray of light was shining directly on it, making it clearly visible to everyone who walked through. At first glance, it just looked like an insignificant smudge, but within seconds I realized this single footprint served as proof that all of these horrible things had happened. It was just a slightly darker mark on the already dirty floor, but the more I looked at it, the more it stood out. It helped me remember that all of these horrendous things had truly taken place, and real people were actually forced into this cramped train car. It was like a punch in the gut; someone had stood in that exact spot as they were being led to their death, this footprint one of their last marks on Earth.
The footprint captivated me, and I stood there, numbly staring at it until everyone was ushered out to make room for the next group. I finished the rest of the museum, but that single footprint caught in the dim light of the train car was all I could think about. The entire museum was so much more horrific now that I was reminded that these horrors had happened to actual people. I can still remember the realization hitting me that the person who left that footprint probably hadn’t survived much