The rain beating down on that hotel roof in a city in Germany
on November 9th, 1958, felt to him like the tears of thousands
of jews on Kristallnacht, when homes and business were destroyed.
In his mind he could hear all the glass shattering as businesses
and homes were broken into by the Nazi Party’s Sturmabteilung
and Schutzstaffel paramilitary forces. He imagined he could
hear the screams and the cries of confusion as the Nazis
did their devil’s work. He cried tears with the rain in
remembrance of his mother, father, sister and brother
who died in the Auschwitz concentration camp not long after that.
Later that day he toured Auschwitz in the rain, lingered there
and shed more tears over the beloved members of his family
gassed to death in the gas chambers. He wiped his eyes,
shook water off his yamaka, and prayed another Holocaust
would never happen again.
Bob Boyd
