
Our visit to Terezín, a small town just 30 miles north of Prague, was an incredibly moving and unforgettable experience. While the streets of Prague are full of vibrancy and life, Terezín holds a strikingly different energy, shaped by its tragic history during the Holocaust. It’s a place defined by immense suffering, yet it also holds stories of extraordinary courage, creativity, and compassion that highlight humanity's resilience, even in its darkest hours.
Terezín is no ordinary town – its history is deeply tied to the tragic events of World War II when the Nazis transformed it into a Jewish ghetto and concentration camp. The Nazis deceitfully referred to it as a "model settlement" to mislead the international community, including Red Cross inspectors, into believing the Jews were being treated humanely. They even created propaganda films portraying Terezín as a resort-like-haven, masking the grim reality of suffering and oppression within its walls.

Behind the propaganda videos, Terezín was a place of unimaginable suffering. From 1941 to 1945, the Nazis imprisoned over 150,000 Jews there. Tragically, about 33,000 people died in Terezín due to disease, starvation, and harsh living conditions. For many others, Terezín was only a temporary stop before being sent to death camps like Auschwitz.
Terezín was unlike most other Nazi camps in that it housed a disproportionately large number of educated and creative individuals, including scholars, philosophers, scientists, visual artists, and musicians. Some of these detainees were internationally renowned figures in their fields, and many played an active role in shaping the camp's unique cultural and intellectual environment. This was partly by design, as the Nazis intentionally deported many of Europe's cultural elite to Terezín, using their presence as part of their calculated propaganda strategy.

The camp’s population included prominent figures such as the composer Viktor Ullmann, the artist Bedřich Fritta, and the poet and writer Ilse Weber. Musicians like Gideon Klein and Rafael Schächter organized performances and operas, often creating new compositions or performing under extraordinarily challenging circumstances. Similarly, visual artists documented life in Terezín through drawings and paintings, many of which survived as haunting testimonies of the inmates’ experiences.
Terezín became a paradoxical space of suffering and creativity. While the living conditions were brutal - marked by overcrowding, starvation, disease, and constant fear - its inmates fostered an extraordinary cultural life. The camp hosted concerts, lectures, art exhibitions, and theater performances, providing both psychological relief and a means of preserving humanity in the face of dehumanization. Classes for children were conducted in secret, where they learned to write poetry, draw, and develop their intellectual capacities despite the harrowing conditions.

The Nazis exploited this rich cultural life as a propaganda tool to deceive the outside world. When the International Red Cross visited Terezín in 1944, the camp underwent a staged transformation to give the illusion of humane treatment. The Nazis beautified the camp by planting gardens, creating fake storefronts, and even organizing a performance of the children’s opera “Brundibár”. These efforts culminated in the production of a propaganda film showcasing Terezín as a “model ghetto,” a narrative designed to obscure the grim reality of its role as a transit camp for Jews being sent to extermination camps like Auschwitz.
Despite the Nazis’ attempts to manipulate the camp's cultural life for their own ends, the resilience and creativity of Terezín’s inmates remain a powerful testament to the strength of the human spirit. The scholars, artists, and intellectuals who contributed to this cultural flourishing demonstrated that even in the face of unimaginable hardship, art, knowledge, and expression could serve as vital tools of resistance and humanity. Today, their works continue to provide profound insights into the experience of life in Terezín and stand as enduring reminders of the triumph of creativity over oppression.

We almost decided not to visit Terezín. At first, I was eager to go, having read about its history and feeling it was important to honor those who suffered there. But as the trip drew closer, a heavy sense of dread set in. I found myself uncertain about confronting yet another harrowing chapter of Nazi atrocities.
I also felt that visiting Terezín would be especially challenging because of its connection to Auschwitz, where so many lives were tragically lost. With my family’s roots in Poland and Russia, the experience felt intensely personal and emotional for me. Growing up Jewish, I had heard stories of profound loss and cruelty, and I questioned whether I could bear to face another chapter of this devastating history.

But sometimes, the most important journeys are the ones that challenge us most deeply. As I walked through the streets steeped with the memories of so much suffering, the weight of human cruelty was overwhelming. The experience was as painful and heart-wrenching as I had anticipated, yet it was also profoundly meaningful and, in some ways, unexpectedly inspiring. To see how immense creativity, drawn from the very depths of these artists' souls, could thrive even in an environment filled with hate and suffering was both humbling and awe-inspiring. As I walked through Terezín, I struggled to understand how people could commit such terrible acts. It served as a powerful reminder of how hate, fear, and dehumanization can lead to unimaginable cruelty. A place like this forces you to question our humanity. How could anyone not only allow but also meticulously plan a system designed to strip away people’s dignity and lives?
Throughout the day, I found myself repeatedly asking: What would I do in a situation like this? Would I have the strength, courage, and compassion to help others, even at the risk my own life? It’s a challenging question to answer. I know how I’d like to think I would respond, but it’s impossible to truly know. The horrors of the Holocaust are so far removed from anything most of us have ever faced that we can only attempt to understand them through the stories of survivors and victims. Nevertheless, thinking about the bravery and selflessness of those who lived through it fills me with deep gratitude and awe.

In Terezín, the stark contrast between the worst and best of humanity is undeniable. The Nazis showed the depths of human cruelty, challenging any faith in humanity’s goodness. Yet, the actions of those who endured and sacrificed offer a powerful reminder of our capacity for compassion, creativity, and dignity. These individuals were more than just survivors - they were beacons of light in the darkness, selflessly encouraging others. Their courage and sacrifices deserve to be remembered and honored. Even in the face of immense suffering, they showed that the capacity for creativity, compassion and goodness never fades.
As I left Terezín that day, my heart was full of contradictions – sorrow for the suffering that had occurred there, but also profound hope inspired by the incredible resilience, creativity, and compassion I had witnessed through the stories preserved within its walls. The true legacy of Terezín is not only a sobering reminder of humanity’s capacity for cruelty but also a powerful testament to our ability to embrace love, creativity, and compassion, even in the darkest of times.

Seeing and reading about what you learned is a gift…especially as we perhaps are on the threshold of our own Dark Age. Learning through your travels - initially to beautiful Prague, and then on to an unknown (to me) concentration camp, Tezerin. Creativity and Love were the balms to those imprisoned and tortured there. Thank you for sharing the story of those citizens finding meaning under dire circumstances ... and a reminder of what is most important - every day.
Love to you and Carla
Wow!! I can feel all your emotions through your writing. Incredibly well-written. As you said, we can only attempt to understand. But the sharing of your feelings honor your heritage, ancestors, and all the suffering and resilience. Thank you for sharing this.
Beautifully written, I could feel the compassion and sadness. Yes, I also felt the admiration first tge strength of the people. Very important history lesson.
Jan