I remember going to the Holocaust Memorial and seeing the pile of shoes. I was a teenager. My mother and some of the other homeschoolers of high school aged girls had arranged a sort of class trip, for us to go sightseeing in Washington DC. One day was dedicated to the Holocaust Memorial Museum. Towards the end of the museum tour, we all shuffled into a dim room, filled with shoes: men’s, women’s, and children’s shoes, some of them... Read more