There is a photographic record of the events in our town, too. But it is one town among thousands that didn't have a major concentration camp nearby, so what happened there isn't famous to world history. All natives of the town know about it, though, and plenty of those who moved there later (like me) are completely aware of it, too. There is a book, on sale at the town's local museum, that documents the town's history from its founding in the Middle Ages right up to the present. The Nazi era and its aftermath are given plenty of page space, both in text and photo history.
Interesting side note: My wife's parents, who met after the war, had very different experiences. Her dad was a farmer until he was drafted at age 17 to be cannon fodder at Stalingrad. He got a leg blown off by a Soviet artillery shell, and returned to a life where he was useless as a farmer. Göring, in an interview after the war, once said, “Why of course the people don't want war. Why should some poor slob on a farm want to risk his life in a war when the best he can get out of it is to come back to his farm in one piece?" My father-in-law WAS that "poor slob on a farm." Her mom, on the other hand, a few years younger, was caught up in the Hitler Youth girls program, the BDM, mostly to rebel against her parents (she was about 14 when she joined, around 1941), who were anti-Nazi. She was deeply ashamed later on for letting herself get indoctrinated, but at least she owned up to it. She used to tell, in matter-of-fact terms, how, on the way to school, they used to routinely jump into roadside ditches to not be killed by RAF planes on routine strafing runs. It's amazing what one can get used to as daily reality.
Her dad, my wife's grandfather, hated the Nazis, and listened constantly to British radio during the war, an offense punishable by death at the time. Their next door neighbor, who was a loyal Nazi, but also had known them all their lives, told him outright, "I know you listen to British radio, but you were always my friend, so I will not turn you in." After the war, when the tables were turned, he pleaded with my wife's grandfather not to denounce him to the occupying forces (British, in their case), reminding him that he had saved his life by not denouncing him to the Nazi authorities. He agreed.
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