Now I'd like to introduce you to some of the people in Peaksville, Ohio. This is Mr. Fremont. It's in his farmhouse that the monster resides

This is Mrs. Fremont. And this is Aunt Amy, who probably had more control over the monster in the beginning than almost anyone.

One day she forgot and began to sing. Since the monster doesn't like singing, his mind snapped and turned her into a smiling, vacant thing.

She sings no more. And you'll note that the people in Peaksville, Ohio, have to smile. They have to think happy thoughts & say happy things.

Because once displeased, the monster can wish them into a cornfield or change them into a grotesque, walking horror.

This particular monster can read minds, you see. He knows every thought, he can feel every emotion.

This is the monster. His name is Anthony Fremont. He's six years old, with a cute little-boy face and blue, guileless eyes.

But when those eyes look at you, you'd better start thinking happy thoughts, because the mind behind them is absolutely in charge.

Mr. Schmidt, recently arrived in a small Bavarian village, a picturesque, delightful little spot onetime known for its scenery.

More recently the spot is related to some of the less positive pursuits of man: human slaughter, torture, misery and anguish.

Mr. Schmidt, as we'll soon perceive, has a vested interest in the nearby ruins of a concentration camp--for once, his name was Gunther Lutze

17 years ago, he held the rank of a captain in the S.S. He was a black-uniformed strutting animal whose function in life was to give pain.

And like his colleagues, he shared the one affliction most common amongst that breed known as Nazis--he walked the Earth without a heart.

Former S.S. Capt. Lutze will revisit his old haunts, satisfied perhaps that all that awaits him in the ruins is an element of nostalgia.

A place like Dachau cannot exist only in Bavaria. By its nature, by its very nature, it must be 1 of the populated areas ofthe #TwilightZone

All the Dachaus must remain standing. The Dachaus, the Belsens, the Buchenwalds, the Auschwitzes--all of them.

They must remain standing because they are a monument to a moment in time when some men decided to turn the Earth into a graveyard.

Into it they shoveled all of their reason, their logic, their knowledge, but worst of all, their conscience.

And the moment we forget this, the moment we cease to be haunted by this remembrance, then we become gravediggers.

Happy marathoning!