The Nazis were here, and were completely assimilated into the corn belt of America. I went to high school with their children, and we always knew about their sponsorship from the "old country" after the war. Every summer we all went to a cookout or two, and heard their recipes and stories about the displacement camp, and we all just never asked too many questions. Just mostly why our small town when anywhere else sounded better. It seemed the family had barely escaped with their lives and we were grateful for them.
And now the Nazis in our town are dead twenty years now, and they won't ever be deported or tried, and the dad was buried with his Nazi medals. That act by his children is a lack of caring and sensitivity, and a slap in the face of decency: the medals should have been destroyed, but we would not know who the parents really were if they had destroyed the medals.
And now my grandchildren are born, and have two hundred relatives listed on Yad Vashem's website and this whole thing with the Nazis really being here in Podunk, America is really too much to process.
I thought of all of this during the first scene where Dylan Baker, with bloodshot eyes, chillingly tells the woman who has identified him "We're here now. Everywhere."
And now the Nazis in our town are dead twenty years now, and they won't ever be deported or tried, and the dad was buried with his Nazi medals. That act by his children is a lack of caring and sensitivity, and a slap in the face of decency: the medals should have been destroyed, but we would not know who the parents really were if they had destroyed the medals.
And now my grandchildren are born, and have two hundred relatives listed on Yad Vashem's website and this whole thing with the Nazis really being here in Podunk, America is really too much to process.
I thought of all of this during the first scene where Dylan Baker, with bloodshot eyes, chillingly tells the woman who has identified him "We're here now. Everywhere."