A quotation from the poet Vladislav Shlangel, written in the Warsaw Ghetto, is situated in the entrance hall to the museum:
“Names – Ziota…Asia…Eli…Fania…Zioma… do they mean anything to you? Nothing. Just people…dispensable people. There were thousands of them, thousands who were sent to Umschlagplatz, thousands beaten with a whip, torn from their families, packed into cattle cars, gassed. Unimportant. They do not appear in any statistical report, nor did they ever receive a medal. Just names. Empty sounds. For me they are living souls, close, real…”
The walls of the hall are covered with portraits of individuals and families who perished in the Holocaust. An ever-increasing collection of family photos floods the walls, as if to accentuate the personal experience upon which the exhibit is based. The reflection of the fate of thousands of nameless people, as the poet writes.