Based on a true story - high school teacher's attempted lesson on fascism gone awry

Whole Earth Review, Summer, 1993 by Ron Jones

Like everyone at my table I surveyed the empty room doubtfully. All those tables so perfectly set. All those glasses that would never be lifted in a toast. Being a survivor is not something to cheer. It is the ultimate pain of being alone. Alone with memories of a family that once sat at a table and celebrated life.

Eva made several trips to the airport with her welcome signs, but no one else arrived. The press straggled into the large room and set up their lights. The reporters outnumberd us. There were two local TV crews, a local newspaper reporter, several stringers and a representative sent by Simon Wiesenthal. They all asked questions at once, questions that tore at years of silence. I felt profound sorrow for those sitting next to me.

A few panelists stood and walked out of the spotlight. Others sat mute, or squirmed like children caught doing wrong. A man with a pencil mustache was unconciously sucking on his shirt sleeve. Eva took the podium and asked that all questions to be directed at her. Once she started talking, there was small opportunity for questions.

"The purpose of this conference is to reject the finding in Brazil that Joseph Mengele is dead. We are representatives of the Twins. It was Joseph Mengele in charge of the death camp Auschwitz-Birkenau who decided who would live and who would die. We watched our families march away and never return." As Eva spoke, the faces near me looked up, surprised that someone would speak for them. "We were Twins, and as such saved by Mengele for his genetic tests, to create a master race. There were 3,000 Twins selected for experimentation; all were children; only one hundred survived. We have waited all this time, embarrassed by our fate and our survival, with feelings of guilt and anger, but most of all afraid to tell anyone -- even our loved ones -- what happened to us. Afraid even to remind ourselves of what happened." Eva looked at her blue-eyed sister, Miriam. Miriam nodded permission for Eva to continue.

"So now the Angel of Death, the man we called Uncle Mengele and sometimes Father, the man we despise for the terrible things he did -- he is reported dead, and there are newspaper stories that the Holocaust did not happen. That six million Jews did not vanish from this earth in the fire of the crematorium." I thought she would not be able to go on. Then the man with the mustache stood. Miriam stood. Then another Twin. They stood in silent support of the woman who had called them here, the person who had finally given a voice to their oblivion.

"Joseph Menegele, what he did to us, he can -- for us, he can never be dead. He is in our thoughts and the faded pictures of our families that we carry with us, he can never be dead -- or forgotten." Eva's voice gained in strength and her head titled upward as if she were addressing the heavens. "So today we stand before you like a flickering candle, a light, a reminder of the darkness, the evil that was the Holocaust." Eva smiled. Not the smile of relief, or victory, or wonder, but of contentment. "This afternoon, we will tell the children of Terre Haute about Joseph Mengele and how racial hatred and prejudice can lead to Fascism, how it starts one step at a time to rob you of your identify and freedom to choose your friends and your destiny. How it pits one group or race or culture against another and roars into a flame in which one's identity is based solely on the uniform or hood or star you wear on your coat. And then the violence you can rend on those declared different, inferior, unnecessary and fit only to die. How this blind violence and hatred leads to a night that can last forever.