As soon as the train leaving the Warsaw Ghetto made its first stop, the 100 Jews packed into the cattle car with 19-year-old Sol Liber knew they were headed east to the Treblinka death camp. “Half the train was getting crazy,” said Sol, who recalls standing back from the tiny window in his car to let more air reach his older sisters, Tishel and Shayva, who were fainting.
Harry Reid, the majority leader in the U.S. Senate, compared Syrian President Bashar Assad’s alleged chemical weapons attacks against his citizens to the Nazi gas chambers.
When people of reason and conscience look back on the subject of Shoah (otherwise known as the Holocaust) today, it is common to hear questions like: "How could a nation of philosophers, composers of classical music, technology, poets, in this seat of the Enlightenment itself, suddenly give vent to savagery not seen since the Dark Ages? How could such dreadful, inhumane impulses seize every apparatus of a nation and cause it to commit such atrocities?"
Scientists using ground-probing electronics may have discovered the missing mass graves at the site of Treblinka, one of the Nazis’ most notorious death camps.
Few writers know more about the dark, sometimes scandalous workings of the music business than Norman Lebrecht, the author of "The Maestro Myth: Great Conductors in Pursuit of Power" (Simon & Schuster, 1991) and the illuminating "Who Killed Classical Music?: Maestros, Managers, and Corporate Politics" (Birch Lane Press, 1997). A longtime newspaper columnist and host of a BBC Radio 3 show, "Lebrecht Live," he won the Whitbread First Novel Award for "The Song of Names," a brilliant debut and a dazzling piece of fiction.