An immediate association - on the private level - in connection with the Holocaust, has always brought before my soul's eyes the gate of the house of my childhood; the gate slammed behind my family's back by the Hungarian gendarmes, when they expelled my dear ones from their home and sent them towards the then unknown target: the Auschwitz camp.
This gate has been haunting my dreams for dozens of years. I would always see myself almost reaching it, with my heart pounding, a moment before entering the house, convinced that this time "it is for real!".
One more step... and I am inside... But then - I would awake, disappointed, as usual. This is the private blocked gate. And this is the individual starting point.