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At age 14, as the reality of the Holocaust engulfed my existence, I lost my name and identity and became merely a number – a number that was tattooed on my arm and has stayed with me for all of my life.

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In the decade following the Holocaust I was still plagued by nightmares and migraine headaches. Eventually, I was able to answer my son’s questions…

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To bring the enormous tragedy of the Holocaust down to an understandable dimension, to begin to fathom the atrocities that happened to millions, let me tell you my story…

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