One of the themes of the Holocaust that stuck in my mind was this sense that death could not be avoided, that death was everywhere. I live in a place today where the early arrival of death for even one person brings about grief throughout the community. When compared to the Holocaust, it almost seems silly that we do such a thing. Death was so prevalent during the Holocaust, one did not even have to be in a concentration camp to walk outside in the morning and see dead bodies scattered about the street. This omnipresence of death is a theme found in the book Night, as well as in the paintings of David Olère.

In this image, the ghost of a deceased Holocaust victim is hovering above a family that looks ready to perish at any moment. The faces of the family show the presence of starvation, disbelief, and anguish. The ghost floating above them almost seems like it surrounds them, his arm around the older woman a sign that he is not going to let them leave his presence. This depiction of death is very similar to a passage from the novel Night. “Death enveloped me, it suffocated me. It stuck to me like glue. I felt I could touch it. The idea of dying, of ceasing to be, began to fascinate me. To no longer exist. To no longer feel the excruciating pain of my foot. To no longer feel anything, neither fatigue nor cold, nothing (Wiesel 86). Wiesel has been marching in the brutal cold from one concentration camp to another for a seemingly countless number of hours. He cannot get the thought of death out of his mind, so much so that he wants to yield to it and perish forever. This is akin to the thoughts the members of the family in Olère's painting were most likely having, as the family looks defeated, halfway dead already, ready and awaiting death to annex the rest of what’s left of them.
These two images, images of the ubiquitous manner of death, have become everlasting images in my mind. It makes me almost feel lucky that I live in a society today where we can mourn the death of a single person, that we can feel as though death is a rarity, an unusual occurrence, a feeling that was stolen from the victims of the Holocaust.