There's a deportation Museum in Prato, near Florence, that is helpful and instrumental for the community's need to remember and learn from past mistakes to avoide future monstrosities.
A poem by Salvatore Quasimodo is a touching poem to remember and look forward from the horrors of Europe's twentieth century history.
"Man of my time" ("Uomo del mio tempo")
"You are still the one with the stone and the sling, Man of my time. You were in the cockpit, With the malevolent wings, the meridians of death, - I have seen you - in the chariot of fire, at the gallows, At the wheels of torture. I have seen you: it was you, with your exact science set on extermination, without love, without Christ. You have killed again, as always, as your fathers killed, as the animals killed that saw you for the first time. And this blood smells as on the day When one brother told the other brother: "Let us go into the fields." And that echo, chill, tenacious, Has reached down to you, within your day. Forgot, O sons, the clouds of blood risen from the earth, forget your fathers: their tombs sink down in ashes, black birds, the wind, cover their heart."