HAS TIME STOPPED MARCHING? IS HISTORY REPEATING ITSELF?
In the early forties, I remember my family listening to radio news about a man named Hitler, an evil man who ruled the country of my ancestors. The news reporter,
speaking about death, murder, and cruelty, referred to Germany as Nazi Germany.
Every Saturday, my grandmother took my brother and me to the movie
theater and, before the Main Feature, the screen flashed a series called “Time Marches On”. I watched unedited film footage of skeletons, some alive, huddled behind barbed-wire fences and guarded by soldiers with guns. I recall photos of
faceless people, young and old, digging in tall mounds of steaming trash, searching for something to eat. Despite my young age, I knew something dark and scary was happening when little children-- without their mothers and fathers-- boarded a long
train of open box cars. Those were the days when America felt like heaven; when ugly scenes from a country called Nazi Germany were only far-away news stories and--- I felt safe.
Today, I don’t miss being a child; I don’t wish to be young again. But, as America-- the country I love-- faces an uncertain future, possible destruction, I pray for God to restore that part of my childhood----when I felt