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Dachau Concentration Center Memorial
Sculpture by Nandor Glid, erected in 1968
Joanne and I visit the immigrant detention center located out in the Wisconsin countryside, an hour away from our home. It’s a nice drive but the visit can be a depressing experience. The detainees are workers, brothers and sisters, locked up without fresh air and a decent meal. They are not criminals just looking for a creative life without terror. Their future is at best questionable.
We are with a faith group of about
ten people and we meet with detainees and sit at tables with three or four per
table. Most of the detainees are Latinos
but we meet with people from all over the world. We are not lawyers, so we mostly listen. The stories are tragic – separated families
and there is no reason for it.
When the visit time is up, we form a
circle and pray. This time the man next
to me was from India. I whispered to him
“shanti shanti”. He responded with a
smile and said ‘peace.’ It’s a thin
place where the ineffable is apparent even in a lock up.
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