Holocaust Day Remembrance

Tunbridge Wells Holocaust Remembrance Day.

The day was cold before dawn, and I got up shivering for a cup of tea.  I have been sleeping rather better lately although the mad pack are in again, and are noisy, and controversial.  It’s more of the same etc.  I had seen the ad in the stuff sent out from the local veteran’s group, and since of my connexion to the Auschwitz concentration camp, and rescue from there, carried out on the newsreel of the day inside a blanket.  My whole being was considered too bad to be seen on the newsreel. I was glad of its warmth.  That day was cold too.

I arrived cautiously, not sure if I should even tell folk who I was, as I had not been to any such for years.  I stood at the top above the war memorial and began to look at the gathering of about six people, all rather soberly dressed.  I spoke to a lady who came out of the library, to sit near to me.  She confirmed she had come out to go to the same event.  She was nice, and told me that she had been to a lecture recently about the Kinder Transport, given by the local Holocaust Society.  I managed to tell her that I had come because I was a survivor – even today – it sticks to my tongue.

Another lady who had taken the same course then came out to join us, she told her, what I had told first, and they became rather excited.  They were so kind, they supported me down the stairs to where the wreath would be laid, by the Mayor of Tunbridge Wells.  We spoke briefly and I asked them to not tell anymore today.  They insisted on telling their tutor, Anne,  who seemed not sure, and later had me checked out.  Apparently the people who say they are me, appear about twice a year.. and are not me.  It wasn’t said to me, so I decided not take any offense, as I didn’t feel the day was about all of that. 

The theme this year, was about Ordinary People – well since the brain tumour, the removal of my money and properties, etc, by people who would never give back, and claimed my loss of memory as the answer to all their problems. I ask myself, actually, how do they get on with such, when they have no experience in dealing with such things?  However, since then, I assured them cheerfully, I have been an ordinary person, cheerfully earning enough to survive when I could and bringing up my family.

So: with out more ado, the event went underway, the flowers were laid, the Mayor spoke, carefully, of how the horrors of the Holocaust must be fully remembered – so that no-one would ever do such again. 

Anne talked a little too, bringing in the education of it, and the local connexions with the survivors based at Beacon House, where many found refuge and later went elsewhere. Today they have a collection of people from the holocaust living inside and have a staff to help them through their various difficulties.

Later the two ladies, took me inside and insisted on me gaining access to the Green Room for which one had to have tickets – and I didn’t have one, not knowing of all the ins and outs.  That sent the staff into a frenzy, and the guy from Beacon House shot off to check the Jewish Records.  If I wasn’t in there, I was to be told to go away.  They are right of course.  Another lady came in too, and it seemed that she had made a claim also to be someone, and it hung in the balance.

The whole thing turned out to be a poetry recital with some narratives of the people in Beacon House and other interesting points.  It was very civilized, and we had some good speakers, although they too, were like me, afraid of their own voices… and had to be jarred into speaking loud enough for us all to hear them.  One young man got up to recite a poem, and he was a very powerful reader, the poem was good too.  We had a couple who got up to sing, an old song, “Under the Stairs!”

It was all too soon over, and we got up to go.  The Holocaust group was asked to stay, and the rest of us filed away.  Anne urged me to stay in touch, and I will have to look them up, as we didn’t actually leave each other any details. 

 I found myself attracted to the surroundings and spotted one of my new friends taking a book at the main library desk, which is sited in the main hall.  I smiled, but she was busy. I slipped into the museum area and looked around, and to my glee I found a beautiful dress.  I always wanted to be a flapper myself.  The Charleston!  What a dance!

My other site has it too - 

https://medium.com/@rosalind.j.lee/tunbridge-wells-holocaust-remembrance...