The afternoon is cold and
windy. The reading has been
going on for several hours.
Some folding chairs, a
podium, and a poster announ-
cing the names of some of the
readers are arranged near a
corner of the graduate library.
A small cluster of hardy
souls brave the biting air, un-
daunted by the reggae music
coming from a nearby radio.
As kids ride by on bicycles,
a young woman steps up to
the podium and begins to
read softly — almost in-
audibly — from the book of
names. She seems on the
verge of tears. As she reads,
each listener responds in his
or her own way.
One young man stands
nearby, his head lowered as if
in meditation or silent prayer.
Another, a student wearing a
Hebrew University sweat-
shirt, focuses on the reader,
bearing witness to her
emotion.
Rabbi Robert Dobrusin of
Ann Arbor's Beth Israel Con-
gregation is on hand to par-
ticipate in the ceremony. For
him, the reading of names is
a way to personalize the
Holocaust.
"When you focus on one
community, one family, one
person, it makes you more
aware of the enormity of the
six million?' he says.
"I have visited Yad Vashem,
in Israel," he says. "There's a
glass case with one child's
shoe — just one child's shoe
which was taken from the
camps. The sight of that
single shoe brought it all
home to me, more than
anything else."
It .is late afternoon when
Representative Perry Bullard
arrives. Although he is a local
celebrity, there is no fanfare
surrounding his arrival. He
sits quietly in one of the
folding chairs next to the
podium.
Yet as a public figure, Mr.
Bullard realizes this cere-
mony has political as well
as personal meaning. "This is
a very good way to strengthen
the resolve of people deter-
mined to fight prejudice, to
make sure this never happens
again."
Mr. Bullard begins to read,
as three kids wearing high-
top roller skates with bright-
ly colored laces pause to
watch and listen.
"Caroline Morgenstern .. .
Marie Morgenstern . . .," Mr.
Bullard's voice intones into
the wind.
As he reads, an older
woman with stylishly coiffed
hair, wearing a blue raincoat,
urgently pages through the
book of names. "I'm looking
for relatives?' she says, not
looking up.
When Mr. Bullard is done,
a young man takes over.
There is no pause in the
reading. Each reader places a
piece of paper under the name
being read. As Mr. Bullard
stops, the young man places
his hand on the paper, so not
one name is lost.
Andrea Nussbaum, a young
woman on the conference
planning committee, guides
speakers and distributes
name I saw tragedy . . . fears
. . . a broken heart."
As the Memorial of Names
continues, a group of 15
young women huddle around
the podium. They seem to be
shielding something very
precious.
One girl holds a flashlight
as another reads. Their young
faces are softly lit, but
solemn. In their intensity and
stillness, they recall a phrase
from that night's talk:
"Memory is a sacred energy."
Julie Guerrero, a freshman
in the residential college and
a member of the conference
planning committee, explains
that these are women from
the Sigma Delta Tau sorority.
"We have lots of sororities
and fraternities coming to
read through the night," she
says.
For Ms. Guerrero, the
reading is a way to pay
tribute to each individual
soul that perished. "While
the names are being read, I
think of a person just like me,
with hopes, dreams, and
aspirations. Someone with a
flyers that explain the
Memorial to passers-by.
"So many people who died
in the Holocaust have no one
to say Kaddish for them," she
says. "I feel this reading is the
least we can do to show our
respect for those who died."
The flyer she distributes
says that it would take 277
days and nights of continuous
reading to read six million
names.
Later that night, the scene
is much different than during
the day. Lamplight floods the
Diag with soft lights and
shadows.
The final event of the con-
ference is a dialogue between
Rabbi Leon Klenicki of the
Anti-Defamation League, and
Reverend Stanislaw Musial of
Kracow, Poland.
The words of Reverend
Musial, who participated in
the Memorial of Names, are
haunting. "I was deeply mov-
ed," he says. "Behind every
Photos by Dan Rose n
"We count on you to help us
create the theater experience.
So as you watch these scenes,
please think about how they
make you feel, and when
given the opportunity, please
talk to us."
"Sometimes the voice can
be selfish," says one of the
characters in "No Survivors?'
But there was no selfishness
in the voices in the Memorial
of Names, the 24-hour
reading that took place on the
U-M Diag.
"There was an overwhelm-
ingly positive response from
groups who wanted to read,"
says Michelle Blumenberg,
assistant director of Hillel.
Reading in half-hour shifts,
students, community leaders,
and members of Jewish and
non-Jewish groups spoke the
names of 19,200 victims of
the Holocaust.
The book of names was com-
piled from records at the
YIVO Institute in Brooklyn,
New York.
"We also had people with
names they wanted to add to
the list," says Ms. Blumen-
berg. "We ,had people calling
up Hillel and saying, 'Can I
read? I have three names I
want to read for my family: "
Dan (David Siegal) is an
Israeli pilot in the troupe's
"No Survivors"
performance.
ground talking and sunning
themselves.
Planning committee mem-
ber Brett Shankman talks
about the attendance at the
Memorial throughout the
night. "It's been a real suc-
cess?' he says. "We were real-
ly worried whether we were
going to get everybody who
committed to read. But
everybody came."
"My own reading went by
very quickly," Mr. Shankman
says, "but I read about 200
names."
Deborah Finkelstein, a U-M
sophomore, says it was ex-
pecially moving for her when-
ever she read a name that
means "life" or "peace" in
Hebrew.
As the words on the printed
flyer say: "Above all, know
that what you can take from
this vigil is the remembrance
of those who died in the
Holocaust, and the thought of
how very precious life is." 111
"I heard a survivor
speak for the first
time in my life .. .
He said what we
must do is teach
our children that
differences don't
matter. Just be
kind to each
other."
— Wilandrea Blair
family who loves them .. .
just like me."
Ms. Guerrero's words recall
those of Rabbi Klenicki
earlier in the evening. The
rabbi told listeners that we
must "experience the
otherness" — feel another's
reality — if we are ever to
heal the wounds of the
Holocaust. "It is God's call,
finally, for us to understand
each other," he said.
The next day brings a dazzl-
ingly beautiful spring morn-
ing. On the Diag, people sit on
the benches and on the
Hassan (Ashok Sharma)
gives an Arab viewpoint.
THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS
37