No, I didn't make a mistake. For those who have read my book you may be wondering why the seemingly contradictory title of this blog. I’ve just returned along with my oldest grandson, Josh, from an emotionally revealing ‘journey of truth’ in Poland, having visited three extermination camps, Treblinka, Majdanek and Auschwitz-Birkenau, as well as the Lupochowa Forest where the entire village of Jews from Tykocin were murdered and tossed into three open pits.

I visited the largest Jewish cemetery in the world; Poland. 

I learned about people who experienced the Shoah (Holocaust); the victims, the heroes and murderers from our knowledgeable and inspiring guide.

I listened to the personal stories of their family members from my fellow travelers.

I touched tombstones of those who had a proper burial.

I smelled the mildew aroma of 40,000 pairs of shoes taken from prisoners destined for death.

I saw the brick and wood remains of death camps. 


  • when there is no one to recall a person’s life
  • when the name of someone is forgotten 
  • when one’s life story is lost in the ashes
  • when one is murdered just because he is a Jew, a Roma or Sinti (Gypsies), mentally or physically disabled, gay or a political prisoner
  • when 1 1/2 million children are killed 
  • when whole families are gassed
  • when entire towns are confined into crowded ghettos or deported to labor camps or death camps
  • when one dies by being shot, injections to the heart, hanged, tortured, beaten, raped, starved or gassed
  • when grief is aborted because trying to survive one more day is paramount
  • when the prolonged traumatic experience is repressed for decades or the rest of one’s life

Take a moment to say the name of someone you loved who has died and remember.

Take the next moment to think of a “nameless “ person.

Take action to stop genocide, to cry out against this act against humanity.

This past week I’ve come to acknowledge that sometimes...SAD IS BAD. 

– Harriet