In case you’ve forgotten, Anne Frank’s final diary entry (written 70 years ago) is a reminder that she was, as the subtitle says, “a young girl”. A young girl like so many others except she is forever frozen in time, denied the opportunity to grow up and become the woman she was supposed to become. Because of hate and the complicity of those who could have done the right thing but chose not to.
I had the opportunity to visit the annex in the top of the spice factory in Amsterdam that served as her family’s hideout from 1942-1944. It’s smaller than you’d imagine from reading Anne’s diary. When I finished the tour I felt like someone had punched me in the gut and a rising anger at the still unknown betrayer(s). I find that anger rising whenever I hear her name mentioned. And with it a sadness, because in my heart I know that this could happen again and there will be collaborators, just as there were in Amsterdam and so many other places, more than willing to give up their neighbors in hopes of being left alone themselves.