Almost two hundred thousand people passed through Terezin, Some fifteen thousand children. They say 132 survived. And until their dying day, they ask, those few who survived ask, “Why me?” Numbers -- Who are they? The photograph preserves faces, behind barbed wire. with uniforms – striped, faded. No names. The people we look at have disappeared – a silent majority. The guards are faceless as well as nameless – anonymous in a well-run bureaucracy, following orders. “Doing my job.” All the names are in no book, except the Book that is opened on Yom Kippur, the Book that reads itself. Now, it is a dark night. The street looks unfamiliar. Where are we? Bagdad again. Now they’re doing it to us again. Now we’re doing it again, See?