Moe - travelswithmoe

South Dakota in the Dead of Winter

The Badlands of South Dakota

Keystone

We rented a Jeep Rubicon at the Rapid City, South Dakota airport. As we drove it off the property, a herd of deer slowly staggered across the road as drivers waited patiently for them to cross. As soon as they reached the grass on the other side they bounded off, jumping on all fours, as fast as they could.

We decided to stay in Keystone, population 240, because it’s the closest town to Mt. Rushmore. Driving through it, we worried we might not find any restaurants open. Everything was “closed for the season”. We got to the hotel and were immediately met with a lobby full of animals. There was an imposing bison head on the wall just as you enter. Perched above our heads on a platform was a full grown elk and a long, powerful mountain lion poised to launch itself at us. An eagle hung suspended in mid-air.

Laddie’s Land

Lucky for us there was a restaurant called ‘Chute Rooster’ about 4 miles away. So we headed off in the dark, through the old mining tunnel, and past the wild west saloon. It was easy to find. Approaching the entrance, we were blocked by a huge canine. He stared at me. His fur was thick and two-toned. He looked like a mix between a shepherd and a wolf. I wondered if he was friendly, and if not, then what’s wrong with this restaurant?

As I opened the door to squeeze past him, he insisted on cramming himself in with me so we both jostled across the threshold at the same time. He was determined to get inside the restaurant. God this is weird. I thought I had done something wrong by letting him in, but really I had no choice, I wasn’t going to fight him. So I told the hostess that a dog just came in with me and he went that way through the restaurant. She turned to a man beside her and said, “Laddie’s in here.” Oh, good, he has a name, they know him.

General Service Animal

She showed us to our seat and I asked her about Laddie. “He’s a service dog,” she said. A service dog. Does he serve stuff? What do you mean “service” dog? If he’s an emotional support animal then he’s definitely lost his human. Or does he do general service for the whole restaurant? I learned from another waitress that he is more the latter. He is one of three dogs who inhabit the restaurant. They are the dogs of the restaurant. Laddie is between 12 and 14 years old. This is the first time I’ve ever met a restaurant dog. I’ve heard of junkyard dogs and reservoir dogs but restaurant dogs are unusual.

We ate good food in a western setting. Maureen had a dipping sandwich and I ate my cheeseburger with a fork and knife because it was so darn big. Live bands play here on the weekend. Upstairs there’s a party room with an antique piano. Clint Eastwood stands flinty eyed keeping watch over the diners daring them to make his day. We set off for the badlands in the morning.

Badlands and Bad Roads

Alex asked me, “So what exactly are the “Badlands”? Why are they bad?”

“I’ll tell you why. The land suddenly drops off like some giant came along and broke off huge chunks of earth making little cliffs everywhere. You could not drive a vehicle across this terrain. Only a horse could navigate through it and that horse would trod slowly and carefully zig zagging his way around all the perilous precipices,” I said. Not only that, the roads that take you through the badlands are bad roads. They are full of potholes, dents, and just basically stuff that gives you a jolt every 10 to 20 seconds.

The Badlands National Park was foggy and desolate. The Visitor’s Center was closed. We weren’t sure where to go so we stopped by the side of the road to regroup. I stepped out of the Jeep to breathe 19°F air. Coming from Florida, it’s a rare treat to shock my lungs and nostrils this way. I took a pic.

Prairie plant with frost — Crystalline Still Life in the Black Hills

The decision was made to drive the few short miles to Nebraska so we could say that we’ve been to Nebraska. I know it’s childish, but we’re immature.

By Moe, 3 weeksFebruary 2, 2026 ago

Florida

Miami: How Sweet it is!

MIA is the international airport code for Miami.

It is 630 miles from our house to Miami. It takes about 10.5 hours if you include pitstops. Florida is a huge state.

Ghost is a Swedish group. I did not see the performance because I was purely the means of transportation to the event. Maureen went with a friend. I ate pierogis across the street. We stayed in Fort Lauderdale.

By Moe, 6 monthsAugust 16, 2025 ago

Europe

Germany: Cologne to Munich

On the Train to Munich

When you get on a train in Europe and look for an unreserved seat, people don’t politely make way for you like they do in the States. In fact, they ignore you completely until you are practically on top of them and then they are forced to move their crap so you can sit in the seat. Such was the case when we sat down with a young woman also going to Munich.

Twit on the Twain to Munich

Eventually, having eavesdropped on our conversation, she volunteered some sightseeing tips. I complimented her on her English. She said, “English is my first language”. But there was a whiff of contempt in her voice and she had an accent that was not from any English speaking country I was familiar with. “Where are you from?” I asked. “Trinidad” she answered, “The British colonized my country”. Now I understood where the contempt was coming from. Add to that a smug, self-satisfied, condescending little twit and you have her in a nutshell.

The Peaceful Warrior who Defeated an (civilized not evil) Empire

It was as if she had plucked a nerve. Game on. “Good for you. It’s a good thing the British colonized Trinidad,” I smiled. She looked down, her mouth twisted into a smirk then she shook her head. It was a moment before she could find words, then she came out with these gems: “The British cut off hands,” she scowled looking directly at me, challenging me.

“Do you know who Ghandi is? The Mahatma?” I asked and waited because anybody who is stupid enough to blurt out that the British cut off hands is stupid enough to not know who Ghandi was. She looked confused for a moment, hesitated and then slowly said, “Yeeahh” as if unsure. “Ask yourself something,” I continued, “Do you think Ghandi would’ve survived peacefully protesting under Stalin, Mao or Hitler?” She smiled ever so slightly and said softly, “Nooo”. I remained quiet. She said, “I never thought of that.” Slam dunk.

Let’s Talk Conquistadors on our way to Munich

Not only did the British give her and her ancestors the gift of the English language, but four years after Trinidad was ceded to the British from the Spanish, the British completely prohibited slavery. The Spanish, on the contrary, encouraged everyone to bring their slaves with them when they populated the islands. I said to my Trinidadian companion, “If you want to talk about blood-thirsty colonialists, let’s talk about the Spanish.” She stared at me like a goldfish, bereft of any general knowledge whatsoever. But I already knew what she was the second she uttered that petulant remark about the hands.

“The Spanish raped, looted, tortured and killed their way all over the Caribbean and Central and South America looking for gold.” Do you know what she said? I admit I was surprised at this level of ignorance. She smirked and said, “And they found none.” Holy shit what a dumbass. I was really enjoying myself now. “No! They found a lot. They found so much that they became the richest, the biggest and most powerful Empire in Europe.

Will wonders never cease to amaze? No, they will not. I feel sorry for people like her who walk around with big chips on their shoulders until they meet people like me who slap them off so fast they don’t know what happened. You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.

By Moe, 7 monthsAugust 3, 2025 ago

California

North to the Forest Kings (Redwoods) and Oregon

Nauseating

The trip to the Redwoods was sickening. At least for Maureen, and only for the first leg of the journey. We picked up the Toyota Corolla and drove down Mission Street in San Francisco looking for highway 1. More signage would’ve been helpful.

After crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, we had a choice to drive right on to highway 101, or left on to highway one. We chose left. Minutes later, in Reyes State Park without phone service, Moe’s stomach started to churn. My driving was making her sick. Lots of tight twists and curls at 45 mph can make for vomit-inducing moments. It’s interesting how the driver never gets sick. I guess if you’re in control, you are immune somehow.

We passed Stinson Beach. Such a stunning view of it from the highway. It was here that Moe begged to be put out of her misery, so we got onto 80 going east, and then 505 going north.

Bite Me Leprechauns

Shortly before arriving in Williams, I witnessed some green magic. A double rainbow over bright, green hills dotted with black cows and yellow flowers spread out before me. In the background was a sheet of ominous dark gray cloud with bolts of lightning flashing through the rainbow. Headed into a storm, I decided to stop for the night. I told Alex that I should’ve looked for the pot of gold and he said, “No. The leprechaun always takes it.” I never knew that. I thought they were our friends. What’s more amazing is that it was Saint Patrick’s Day. Could this have been some kind of omen?

Dinosaur in Williams — Cheesy random dinosaur in Williams

Concrete Blues

We got as far as Williams, population 5,000. Surprisingly, our hotel was full; we got one of the last rooms. It was full of workers and I never found out what they were working as.

We finally got our food at the MacDonald’s drive thru and headed back to our room, but climbed up the wrong wing of the hotel. Going back down the slick concrete stairs, Maureen slipped and fell on her behind. “I want to go home!” she cried, and then lay there hungry and broken on the cold, slick cement in a Podunk town in the middle of nowhere with farmland stretching for as far as the eye could see.

Save the Coke

I felt bad for her, I really did. I asked if she could move. She nodded yes. So then I asked her if she would kindly move her butt so we could get back to the room and eat; the food was getting cold. No, I didn’t say that. She rose slowly to a sitting position. Concrete stairs are dismal to begin with, but there is nothing more depressing than a cement motel staircase, in the rain, at dusk, far from home when you are hungry.

She managed to stand and we moved carefully away leaving the diet Coke lying wounded on its side on the bottom step with its precious life’s blood seeping out of the lid. “You don’t want that?” I asked. “No!” she shouted disgusted. Why take it out on the Coke? It was a perfectly good Coke and boy did she miss it after eating her spicy McCrispy. “I think I may have broken my arm,” Maureen said. As it happened, there was slight bruising on her upper arm. Later, I said that I, too, had fallen while going to retrieve ice. “Really?” she asked. “Yes,” I said.

By Moe, 11 monthsMarch 30, 2025 ago

Louisiana

New Orleans the Crescent City

“Have you ever been in New Orleans? If not you’d better go,
It’s a nation of a queer place; day and night a show!
Frenchmen, Spaniards, West Indians, Creoles, Mustees,
Yankees, Kentuckians, Tenesseans, lawyers and trustees,
Clergymen, priests, friars, nuns, women of all stains;
Negroes in purple and fine linen, and slaves in rags and chains.
Ships, arks, steamboats, robbers, pirates, alligators,
Assassins, gamblers, drunkards, and cotton speculators;
Sailors, soldiers, pretty girls, and ugly fortune-tellers;
Pimps, imps, shrimps, and all sorts of dirty fellows;
White men with black wives, et vice versa too.
A progeny of all colors – an infernal motley crew!
Yellow Fever in February – muddy streets all the year;
Many things to hope for, and a dev’lish sight to fear!”
Colonel James R. Creecy, 1860

Sailing up the Mississippi to New Orleans

Two and three hundred years ago, people sailed into New Orleans and came up the muddy mouth of the Mississippi or “Father of Waters” as it is also called because it is so big. Their ship was usually caught at the mouth and towed into the harbor at New Orleans. One such traveler was Colonel James Creecy from North Carolina whose first view of the Mississippi inspired the following:

My first impression was the vast extent of marsh: so waste, so uninhabitable, so lonely, so like the Great Desert of Sahara, in monotony and dreamy stillness. A dreary home for alligators, mud-turtles, catfish, and seabirds. The view produced a melancholy sensation at my heart, which I could not easily get rid of…for miles on both sides of the channel…were piled in wild confusion, thousands of trunks, bodies and the larger limbs of trees, bereft of foliage and bark; bleached till white as human bones on the fields of Waterloo, and looking like the skeletons of departed glories, once the majestic beauty and pride of the river in higher regions, thousands of miles away north.

Scenes in the South by Col. James R. Creecy, 1860.

That is quite a different first impression than what we experience. The desolation is palpable.

Nowadays

Nowadays we drive by car or fly in, or we may sometimes cruise in from the Gulf of Mexico. And then we walk down to the park along the Mississippi. For a lot of us, this is what our first glimpse of the mighty Mississippi looks like. I know it was mine.

The Mississippi River is 2,350 miles long. At its widest point it is over 11 miles.

Why Crescent City?

I could not have said this better myself so I just copied the whole thing.

Just under one hundred miles from the Mississippi’s mouth, the river takes a sudden turn southward, snaking east and then north in a final return to its southeasterly course. In this crescent-shaped curvature between river, lake, and gulf lies New Orleans, named after Philippe I, duc d’Orléans by the French Canadian naval officer and colonial administrator Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne de Bienville.

By Moe, 1 yearSeptember 11, 2024 ago

Texas

National Aeronautics and Space Administration

NASA is the National Aeronautics and Space Administration in Houston, Texas.

NASA scientists recently sent pictures of naked humans into space. I am not too keen on enticing aliens; if they would be enticed. The scientists say they want to “start a conversation” with aliens no matter how far off into the future.

Even if the aliens are short, dour, and sexually obsessed—if they’re here, I want to know about them.
Astronomer Carl Sagan

Speak for yourself, Mr. Sagan. I, for one, would not like to be followed around by a short, dour, sexually obsessed alien.

Oh, I see. It’s not actually a photograph, it’s an illustration. Well, that’s different.

Can you see the lust in that alien’s eyes?

NASA is fun to visit.

By Moe, 2 yearsAugust 14, 2024 ago

Europe

Budapest, Hungary: Jewel of the Danube

Extra Hungariam non est vita, et si est vita, non est ita
Mátyás Sárközi, Hungarian scholar 350 years ago.

Translation from Latin: There is no life outside of Hungary, and if there is life, it is not the same. (Not the same as in not quite up to par).

Budapest, the Jewel of the Danube

Saint Gellért on the bank of the Danube River. King Stephen asked him in the 11th century to convert his pagan people to Christianity. The Italian monk, Gellért, tried but was thrown down this hill in a barrel spiked with nails. That’s a rough reception. I wonder where they came up with that?I’ve never heard of such brutish treatment of a visiting man of the cloth.

And Jewel of the Satellite Countries

Budapest, Hungary known as the jewel of the Danube was also known as the jewel of the satellite countries during Soviet occupation. Why? Because it was the least oppressed. Under a “communist” regime, the people managed to operate small companies, travel abroad on business, and receive the most tourists than any other Soviet bloc country. And now that it has recuperated, slowly but surely, from the hollowing out it suffered under “communism”, Budapest is welcoming more visitors than ever. It is a city like no other in a country that is more than a thousand years old.

Please note: I use quotations for the word communism because no country has ever achieved a “communist” paradise. Everyone is always stuck at the socialist stage. Socialism precedes communism.

The Little Princess in front of the Little Princess

Maureen has been to Budapest before but doesn’t remember any of it. That is “The Little Princess Statue” in the background. It was created in 1972.

By Moe, 2 yearsJuly 12, 2024 ago

Sydney, Australia

Sydney (The Emerald City), Australia

Two Americans walk into a coffee shop…

“Your mullets suck.”
“You’re fat.”
And thus began our foray into the wilds of Sydney on a very early, pre-dawn Saturday morning. A Saturday morning following the night before “football” (soccer) match between Scotland and Australia. I think Scotland lost. We ducked into a coffee shop on the corner and immediately came up against 3 youths around Maureen’s age (16). The one nearest the cookie display pointed to a big chocolate chip cookie and said to me, “Don’t you think this is too much for a cookie? Would you pay this?” The cookie was $5.90 Australian. And I had to say, “Yeah, it is.” “See!” the same youth said to one of the Chinese youths behind the counter. There was a definite aggressive tone in his voice and posture.

Man in a Kilt Sydney, Australia — My brother asked if this was me in a kilt. My brother is such a funny guy. I hope he is wearing wool underpants (yeah, my brother too) because no self-respecting woman would walk around in 40 degree temps without wearing panty hose or tights.

Inflation in Sydney

By the way, the prices in Sydney are crazy. I even read in the newspaper that the price of something was “un-Australian”. Anyway, things just kind of snowballed really fast from there. So I said, in defense of the nervous-looking young person behind the counter, “Yeah, it’s a lot. But, if you don’t like it, why not go somewhere else?” The counter person barely nodded and I heard a very quiet, “Yeah.” Yeah, as in get the hell out of my store.

Mullets Suck

The second guy standing with Maureen asks where are we from. He looked the roughest of all three. He stood 6 feet, had bloodshot dark blue eyes, brown hair, acne, and a sort of simmering energy right below the surface. I felt like this guy could erupt at any second and it wouldn’t take much to light the fuse. In fact, looking at him, he seemed to be thinking about something else other than the conversation we were having. He asked why we were here. And Maureen said, of all things, that she was an international college student followed by “your mullets suck”.

Mullet Hair — Photo by Good Faces on Unsplash

Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting

I’m not sure what prompted this sudden negativity, but when he answered “You’re fat.”, she grabbed my arm and marched me out of the place, yelling, “Fuck off!” They yelled something back but I didn’t quite catch it. The young gentlemen had probably been out all night drinking and doing God knows what else and now they were going to fight with the Chinese guys in Chinatown only they ended up picking a fight with Maureen instead. I swear, Moe was so angry that if we had stayed there a minute longer she would’ve resorted to Taekwondo kicks and slaps and we would’ve been the worse for it. A lot worse.

Wallet Safety in Sydney

Meanwhile, there was a tall, blonde guy in his thirties standing right at the entrance with us the whole time just watching everything and not saying a word. All he wanted was a coffee, like me. Instead, we get these crazy kids wanting to fight everybody.

Still, when all is said and done, mullets? Mullets are back? They didn’t look good in the 70s and they don’t look good now. What do you think of this guy? I rest my case.

But, seriously, what was I thinking? I should’ve pulled out a twenty, bought them 3 cookies, and told the guy behind the counter to keep the change. However, would it be a good idea to take out your wallet under those circumstances?

Egg McMuffins

I had yet to have my coffee. But, look at this McDonald’s. I thought the one in Budapest was fancy. This was the Plaza Theater built in 1930 and seated 2,000 people.

We had two Egg McMuffin meals (so that’s one McMuffin, one hash brown, and one drink). The McMuffin could not get any smaller. I mean it was around 3 inches wide. Guess how much this fine morning repast cost? Twenty Australian. That is so un-Australian.

Henry Huggins

I was standing right where that farthest yellow cone is picking up my coffee. A man in his twenties came up to me, shook my hand, introduced himself and without speaking spread his arms out for a hug. I guess he figured if he introduced himself he was eligible for a hug. I just shook my head and turned to collect the coffees. With a coffee in each hand I turned around and he was still there. Again, he spread his arms out. I said, “My husband is sitting over there. Excuse me.” Sydney’s drunken goodwill ambassador in the form of Henry welcoming me to the land down under. Thanks Hank.

Tail End of the Morning’s Theme Song

It’s a shame I didn’t get it when it was in full swing. Maureen is trying to keep her nose ring from falling down in case you were wondering.

By Moe, 2 yearsJune 26, 2024 ago

Travels with Moe

Upper Alabama in Springtime

The Trifecta in North Alabama

We drove up north to see the Coonhound Cemetery. It is the only one like it in the world. But before we left, I discovered that Helen Keller’s House and Muscle Shoals Music Studio are all in the same area. I won the trifecta.

Alabama Belts

As we drove the back roads, the terrain became more of a roller coaster. This was, after all, the foothills of the Appalachians. Coming from flat Florida, this was a lovely sight indeed, especially in Spring. Camellia and honeysuckle had already bloomed in our neck of the woods, but Eastern Redbud was in its full glory the farther north we went. There was a sign that read. “Entering Alabama Timber Belt”. This was evidenced by numerous flatbeds hauling big bundles of pine trees and other trucks transporting finished lumber. Alabama is a heavily wooded state. Beautiful.

At the town of Eutaw there was a sign that said, “Alabama Black Belt”. I had no idea what this meant. I said to Maureen, “Is this because Black people live here?” She said, “No, it can’t be. It must be some kind of stone or maybe coal”. It sounded strange to us. So I looked it up. The Black Belt is “a cradle of African American Heritage” and it also has a rich tradition of quilting. I was right! The official designation is something new, however.

This quilt was made by Helen Keller’s aunt. The large stitches were indicative of who made the quilt. Stitches were personal creations.

Alabama North Country

Shortly after this I caught sight of a groundhog nibbling on something at the side of the road. This was at Bear Creek, to be precise, which is located just down the road from Murder Creek.

(Interesting name for a small body of water, I must say. I will have to research that one. Thank God the truck didn’t break down here.) It was at this point that I knew we were definitely entering the north country. Florida does not have groundhogs. But, murders at creeks, I’m sure we’ve had our fair share of those.

Florence, Alabama

Six and a half hours later we reached our destination of Muscle Shoals, Alabama. We drove over the Tennessee River to take a quick look at Florence the home of the University of North Alabama. The buildings date from 1830 when the university was founded. Also in Florence is McFarland Park, a long tract of land stretching along the river with concrete picnic tables, tall pines and a fresh breeze off the river. We happened to park right beside a little egg that had fallen out of one of the tall pines. Maureen picked it up. I think it’s a Robin’s egg. Just in time for Easter.

Coon Dog Graveyard, Tuscumbia, Alabama

The next morning we rose early to find the Coon Dog Cemetery. It was about 30 minutes from our hotel in Muscle Shoals. We drove up a winding road past blonde cows, a few fine houses and finally reached a plateau in a very remote area of the woods. The cemetery is on top of the ridge. It was morning, the forest was hushed except for the sound of a woodpecker working very hard for his breakfast. I stood still with the fallen friends looking off into heavily wooded ravines, and imagined wild chases full of dogs barking and baying, men yelling and cursing and branches breaking underfoot. Does it remind you of a fox hunt without the horses?
.

What would October, November and December be without this sport? Then, if ever, come perfect nights when you fill your lungs with the vigorous air and down the breeze the chorus of your dogs like “the horns of elf-land faintly blowing!”
The Coon Hunter’s Handbook by Whitney and Underwood, p.20.

A Good Thrashing

So what is a Coonhound, anyway? There are Blue Ticks, Redbones, Black and Tans and Treeing Walkers. They are all American dogs, some dating back before the country was even formed. And, according to my trusty Coon Hunter’s Handbook written in 1952, in order to officially be one, the dog must have one witness to its actually treeing a coon and three witnesses if it is not certified.

If the dog chases deer or squirrels, it is disqualified. How do you dissuade a dog from chasing a squirrel? I’d like to know that one. Again, I turn to my handbook and it says, along with other things, “a good thrashing” will do it. That’s grim. They were tough in those days. A 21st-century Snowflake would perish on a 1930s forest floor as quickly as it had fallen.

Troop

The first man to bury his dog here was Mr. Key Underwood. (Is the Underwood author of “The Coonhunter’s Handbook” any relation, I wonder?) The dog’s name was Troop. This was in 1937. They had been together for 15 years and everyone agreed that Troop was the best. He buried him in a cotton pick sack 3 feet under at an old hunting camp. Now there are 300 more graves one as recent as 2023.

No Waltzin’ In

Don’t think you can just waltz right in and have your little Fifi or Pickles buried here. Don’t even go there. This hallowed ground will not be “contaminated by the likes of lapdogs or poodles.” These coonhounds are more than just pets, they are equal partners in an exciting adventure where nobody knows what will happen and nobody knows where or how it will end. Not only that. Raccoon pelts are valuable. America was built on the backs (on the fur from the backs) of raccoons and beavers, too.

A Partial Gallery of Fallen Alabama Coon Dogs

Cats and Monkeys

And you can make a “delectable” dinner out of this animal according to my handbook. Just as long as you cut up the roast because they tend to look like cats or monkeys. So serve it in pieces especially if there are children around. Also, don’t forget that someone is sure to bite on the BB shot and that will start the conversation back to the coon hunt and before you know it all the gory details are coming out. That’s when you’ll get a few sensitive souls leaving the table so remember:

We should try to make the occasion of eating coon meat, which is really very delectable, as pleasant as possible, remembering that we do not describe the slaughter house every time we have lamb for Sunday dinner.
Whitney and Underwood, The Coon Hunter’s Handbook, p. 159

Razorback Red Makes a Break for It

Whenever Moe gets in the backcountry she gets a little wild. You can see the mischievous glint in her eye right before she hightailed it into the bush. She sort of reminds me of the elusive razorback up there in Arkansas. At times I saw what I thought were tusks but it was only the way the sun’s rays glanced off her blonde highlights.

It took me more than an hour to track her down, “hog” tie her, and throw her into the bed of the truck. After she lay there for maybe 20 minutes, howling to beat the band, she asked me for some water which I, as her mother, dutifully gave. Then she looked me straight in the eye and said, “Ma?” I said, “Yes, child?” “Ma, don’t nobody love me the way y’all do, Ma.” I said that was right and even offered to let her run around a bit more but she declined.

She had had enough. The family curse had run its course. The blood of the hound runs through all our veins and we run with it. Literally.

Adieu my Sweet Fellows

We bade farewell to the illustrious group gathered on the hill. It’s been a long time since I had a hankerin’ to see this place. The peaceful, isolated setting deep in the woods suited these dogs well. This is where they longed to be while alive and now they rest together in the lonely woods, their spirits happy.

Raccoon one — Me feeding a raccoon. They also love eggs.

By Moe, 2 yearsMarch 23, 2024 ago

Europe

Dachau is Outside of Munich, Germany

This was the first one, the model. All the rest are based on this one. Dachau opened on March 10, 1933, 5 weeks after Hitler became chancellor. It had the longest run. However, it was not strictly a death camp like Auschwitz and Treblinka where one arrived, disembarked and was sent straight to the gas chambers. The prisoners at Dachau lingered as if to give the illusion that people were only being detained. And as they lingered they weakened and starved to death or succumbed to illness or committed suicide.

Arbeit Macht Frei on gate — The gate through which more than 200,000 souls passed. “Arbeit macht frei” hits you almost at eye level. “Work sets you free” is the translation. What would you think if you were walking through that gate and saw that? All I have to do is work hard and they’ll let me go? What a vile joke. They are sneering at their victims.

Terror

Right after I stepped through the gate and looked at the square, my whole body lit up with chills. My arms, chest, and legs felt ice cold. For just a fraction of a second, I panicked and then as soon as I told myself to stop it, the feeling left me. I was able to walk forward. It was a physical reaction to a horrifying place.

By Moe, 2 yearsJanuary 16, 2024 ago