When my father, Werner Coppel, arrived at Union Terminal in 1949, he had a wife, a baby, and a suitcase. That’s how he always told it: simple words that carried the weight of an entire life rebuilt. He had survived Auschwitz. He had survived a death march. He had lost nearly everything. But when he stepped off the train in this city, he had love, courage, and the will to begin again. That same suitcase, worn and heavy with history, is back on display at Union Terminal. It sits inside "Auschwitz. Not long ago. Not far away," the landmark exhibition...
Monitoring Antisemitism Intel
