Krakow Day 1 September 30

The flight to Krakow from Berlin is only 50 minutes, but parts of the city are centuries away. Our flight was delayed, so by the time we arrived at our apts on Lubelska  St, our guide Ewa was waiting . She drove us to Kazimierz, the Jewish section of town. She is a 30 year old non-jewish phD professor here, in a university Jewish studies department of 200  students. Imagine. 

What we learned:

Although there were Jews in Krakow proper from before 1400, but they were removed to Kazimierz, an area just a 15 minute walk southeast. The Old Synagogue is,as the name says,  the oldest synagogue in Poland, but there are 7? total in town all with their own stories. The Main Street , Szeroka, is an elongated square full of "Jewish" restaurants and shops which would make one think there are Jews thriving here. Surprisingly, they are all run by non-Jews, because the majority of Jewish families who lived here before 1939 were either murdered by Nazis, or if they survived, they left in one of 3 waves after the war. Krakow 's Jewish population was approximately one forth of the total. They count 65,000 as having perished in WWII. This district which had fallen into poverty and disrepair had a gradual revitalization beginning with Steven Spielberg in 1992. He arrived here with his crew and actors to make Shindler's List and the interest and renewal began. The guide pointed out his favorite restaurant , Ariel, which  had to learn Jewish style cooking as did the dozen others. Next door is one named Helena Rubenstein, who yes, did live here, and made her way in the world as a cosmetics queen. This Soho of Krakow is now a huge Jewish tourism draw, especially for those making the pilgrimage to Auschwitz, an hour away. Amusing are the little golf cart mini busses that swarm the area taking visitors around the district.

Another old synagogue Rema , dating from the 1500s has the old Jewish cemetery surrounding it. The Nazis dismantled the tombstones and used them to pave roads, then made the cemetery a garbage dump. After the war the tombstones were excavated and replaced. There was no way to know which were the correct places, so they were respectfully put back anywhere. The stones that were in fragments and could not be pieced together became a patchwork-like wall , almost a wailing wall. It is beautiful in a haunting way.

Ewa drove us to see the remaining wall of the ghetto the Nazis created in the war before shipping everyone to Aushwitz. Cruelly, the top of the wall is rounded and shaped like gravestones. Not far away was a concentration camp for hard labor where many perished. A dramatic sculpture now stands in memorial. The home of the  sadistic Nazi commander Gott, portrayed in Shindler's list still stands on this field.

One very curious occurance in Krakow is the very popular yearly klezmer festival.  It is organized, of course, by non-Jews and brings people from all over the world which has spurred further building and vitality here.

There is a monument on one end of the square in memory of the Jews who perished from Krakow. I brought stones from Jerusalem the purpose of marking graves. Nancy and I placed them on the top. A kind of Justice, I think.

Our dinner at Sasiedzi was a memorable one. Across the street from the JCC ( more about this tomorrow) we were taken into a cozy, charming, cradle lit, brick cavern of white table table cloths and carefully prepared European dishes. Our duck with apples was incomprable. The owner was a character who served us with panache. A taxi ride home, we headed for a well deserved rest.

Berlin day 5. September 28,

Last touring day and so much more to see. We took the suggestion of the Youngerman's friend Beth, who is living here for the year, and walked to the wall memorial on  Bergstrasse at the Mauer Park. I would put this as a top must see place to visit, even if you only have one day . It is the longest section of the wall still standing, which runs for a number of blocks. In the death strip is a large green space parallel to the wall with information kiosks, photos , maps, and ground markers delineating former structures. They explain the timeline and building sequence, the history of escapes, and the upheaval of the cemetery and church on this section. This wide open space with the guard tower presiding  is one of the most lonely and sad places I have experienced.

Up for another walk, we walked to near the Hackescher market again to a recommended lunch place, Alta Europe.  I would say this area is the Soho of Berlin, so is populated by many coffee shops, unique restaurants and upscale shops. Lucky for us it was a market day. There was a small food and vegetable area, and a larger area, maybe 20 stands of crafts. Some were higher end, mainly for apparel. The cafes were populated by the weekend crowds, and buskers entertained. 

We were determined to get some museum viewing in, so walked across the bridge to museum island.  We only had 3 hours , enough time for one museum in the complex, so the Pergemon it was. Excellent choice. The reconstructed temple excavated from Turkey is spectacular. Not to be outdone by the gates of Ishtar and the facade of a market.  With time running out we wanted to see what Alexanderplatz was about so walked there. The needle seems to be the attraction, but the park and concert did not interest us. We walked home exhausted only to snag a coveted last minute reservation

At the restaurant Katz Orange.  It had been written up in the NYT recently and was well deserving of the positive review. In a set back courtyard in a building that could well have been a convent or school, a very comfortable yet simple and elegant dining room was a welcome place to relax and enjoy good food and good company. Our last night in Berlin and so much more to see.

Berlin Day 4, September 27

Finally, The Jewish Walking Tour.  We met our guide at the Hackescher Market stop. I'll I'll is an Israeli whose grandfather was a German, so had an interesting perspective. Another grandfather was friendly with an SS officer. Before the roundup he alerted him and arranged for an escape boat, which saved his family's life. Later this SS officer was on trial in Nuremberg, and the grandfather testified on his behalf. He became only one of two German officers who were acquitted. Our three and a half hour walk covered no more than a square mile in what once was the Jewish quarter. The first stop was quite dramatic at Rosenstrasse. A small park there has the footings of what was a large synagogue built in the 1700s. On that block was the local Gestapo headquarters. In 1942? There was a roundup of Jewish men, including those married to Aryan women.  They were held in a building there, but were eventually freed because of the dramatic, unrelenting protest of the women; wives, mothers and children, standing in the cold not giving up. Nearby we went to a workshop that employed blind Jews to make brooms. The Christian man Otto Weith? used his wiles and bribery to keep them safe from the Gestapo. A number of them survived because of his generosity. We walked through now upscale courtyards with chic stores and restaurants, which used to house families of Jews before the war. Also in the neighborhood is a memorial park that was the first Jewish cemetery in Berlin. Later it was a deportation point for concentration camps. A dramatic sculpture of the "musselman" although all women, stands before the gates. Nearby there is a place where there is a gap in the houses where an apartment used to stand.  On the walls of the remaining houses on the sides are painted the names of the former residents of the missing house, many of them Jews. As well, we looked at a small brass plate that was placed in the bricks and cement in front of the space. Throughout Berlin, and maybe Germany , these small (4"sq?) bronze plates are embedded in the sidewalks in front of houses where Jews lived before the holocaust. Nancy tells us that our friends Debbie and Hannah arranged for one either in front of the house or synagogue in Mannheim of their father, Rabbi Rosenthal. They are called "stumble blocks" and are slightly raised, so people will have to take notice of them and remember what occurred.  The ones in more travelled streets have a shinier cast. We also walked into the courtyard of a Catholic hospital where the sisters hid Jewish children in the contagious disease ward as patients, so no Gestapo would want to nab them. Towards the end of the war, German boys were forced to wear military uniforms and fight. Two young kids became frightened and ran into the hospital.  The nuns buried their uniforms at night and kept them safe for the duration.

The afternoon was reserved for The Jewish Museum. This is the structure designed by Daniel Lebskind. Attached to the traditional looking edifice is a somewhat disturbing dark grey building in a zig zag configuration. The exhibits about Jews in Germany are arranged in chronological order from the Middle Ages to the present. The most interesting presentations were of the 20th century. Again, we were made aware of how assimilated the German Jews  were, brought home by the fact that they were more than eager foot soldiers for the glory of the fatherland in WWI . Unfortunately their service and zeal was of no consequence not even 20 years later when they were the targets of hate and discrimination. After 3 hours, we were spent. A pizza restaurant was a partial antidote to the heavy day of contemplating the worst and sometimes the best of what humans are capable of doing to their fellow man.

Berlin Day 3. September 26

The Third Reich walking tour was first on the agenda today.  After our next door coffee shop breakfast and Internet check in, we made our way to the zoo subway stop to meet the group. Our guide, Kevin from Manchester UK, armed with a Phd in history and a thesis on fascism proved to be an excellent professor of the subject.  He took us from the early rise of discontent among the WWII vets to the Cold War, walking past the many sites such as the place of Hitter's underground bunker, the various Nazi ministry buildings, East German sites, and the Museum of Terror. A few blocks away we viewed Checkpoint Charlie, now a garish tourist site. after a soup stop, even though we were thoroughly spent at the end of an emotionally difficult day, we walked a few miles to our hotel.

The highlight of the trip so far was going to Simhat Torah services at the New Synagogue. A small room is the sanctuary to this eclectic collection of Jews, many Israeli as far as I could tell. They had some prayer books in English (conservative) . The Rabbi is a cheerful, enthusiastic 40ish woman and the cantor a middle aged man with a lively step and pleasant voice.  The hakafot (parades around the room carrying the Torah) were crowded and fun, with children, teenagers, and parents carrying kids on shoulders. After the 4th circle, the candy throwing began and the adults enjoyed throwing as much as the children loved collecting.  At the  brief gathering afterwords, we met a German college student who was a counselor at Wisconsin Camp Ramah this summer.  This experience was the perfect antidote

to a taxing day of contemplating the overwhelming evil that happened here.

Berlin Day 2. September 25, 2013

How did we ever get anything done before email? I had been waiting for another response from the contacts in Linda, Germany, and to my delight this  morning at 5am a lovely communication from the mayor popped up. He as located some elderly residents  that remember the American  prisoners, including a Mr. Fischer (a relation to Karl?) who now lives in Dresden. He is working on PR and a translator for a book talk! So, the excitement is turned up a notch.

It was chilly, but as the sidewalk cafes hang on to possibility, we joined the bundled conspirators and had breakfast all fresco. The coffee cafe next door exudes the same funky aura as our hotel, and these REI outfitted Yanks camped out with lingering lattes and iPads to strategize the day's routes via reliable wifi. Thanks to Nancy and Jim, we had registered entry tickets for an English tour of the Reichstag.  Rather than take the subway, we were up for the mile + walk past the Freidrichsborg and Linden areas. We were very early so strolled in the Tiergarden and came across a moving memorial to the  approximately half million  gypsies murdered by the Nazis. It is evident in the several memorials we have seen in just two days that the bitter pill of culpability has been swallowed by the German psyche. They have clearly owned up to the atrocities perpetrated by not just the command but by all who were witnesses.

The Reichstag is as much about the unfortunate history and the government post 1989 as it is about the reconstructed interior. Today it is a marvel of a building, melding the neoRenaissance structure with the necessary reconstruction from the war damage and neglect. The British architect (Foster) inserted modern glass into the building juxtaposed with graffiti walls leftover from the Russian occupation. We had the opportunity to sit in the parliamentary chamber, and enjoyed the ramp walk in the magnificent mirrored and glass dome which affords panoramic views of much of the city.

A stop for soup refreshed us for the mile walk back to our hotel, and a few blocks beyond to the New Synagogue. Forgoing a nap we toured the museum there.  Part of the structure survived the war, but the enormous sanctuary was destroyed. Now the room for prayer is the size is a large classroom, vs as eating for 3,000.The beautiful dome can be seen for many blocks around. Most impressive was the extent of social and cultural involvement which existed before the war.  At one time there were 160,000 Jews in Berlin. Today no one knows how many there are because there are few synagogue members.

Our dinner near the Tiergarten zoo was arranged by Nancy and Jim who made a reservation to include their friends from Madison who come to Berlin for work. The restaurant, Heising,received high marks from many sources. It is a lovely old world, Victorian parlor with candles and pale roses decorating the small dining room.  The hosts are a charming couple, probably in their mid 70s. They took care of each table as personal guests, and gave the ladies a rose upon leaving.

Linda or Linda? And Frieburg or Frieberg?

A few weeks to go until we leave for Eastern Europe with Jim and Nancy Youngerman. These dear and capable friends have eagerly volunteered to plan every detail of the entire trip. No doubt they have spent countless hours and days making the arrangements . I only have one day to plan and it has taken weeks. This is the problem: there is more than one Linda, Germany.

In 1945, my father, Max Gendelman, was as he said, "a guest of the Nazis." Missing  in action for 5 months after capture in The Battle of the Bulge, having endured grueling marches, cattle car transport, hard labor and starvation, he ended up in eastern Germany near the Czech border. American soldiers were put to work picking crops in a makeshift prison on the farm commandeered from the Fischer Family by the Nazis. The location,  Linda, Germany.

His book recounting the events at the farm, including his escape with Karl Kirschner, the Fischer's grandson are chronicled in  A Tale of Two Soldiers to be published November 5, 2013.
www.taleoftwosoldiers.com


When I realized we would be near the Czech German border I floated the idea of trying to find the farm property to my traveling companions. They enthusiastically gave it a green light, so I went to the map store seeking the Michelin driving maps to eastern Germany. Yes, there was a Linda near the Czech border. I saw that it was approximately four hours drive from Prague and would not take us too far out of our way back to Berlin. I reserved a car, made hotel reservations near the town and thought about how to make contacts there. As a librarian, I am partial to using the often creative and unsung resources public libraries have to offer, so my first thought was to begin there. A quick journey to Google Earth brought me to the village of Linda, and keying in "libraries" in the search nearby box offered a list of libraries. By coincidence, our friend Barbara had a German speaking guest staying with her, so I leaned on her to call the city library for me. it turned out that Frau S. the only English speaking employee would not be there for a week. A young friend, Patrick, a German major, performed the next good deed by phoning upon her return. She recommended we speak with Herr P. in the city archives. Calling takes some planning. Some of these offices are only open two days a week. Also, in order to reach them in the morning before lunch break it is wise to initiate calls very early in the morning.
I sent Herr P. photos and an explanation of what I wanted. In the meantime I thought it might be helpful to provide the name of the Kirschner's cousin who they had willed the farm to. I emailed Chuck Kirschner and received an unexpected surprise; the inheritance documents to the property,  which pinpointed the location. I promptly forwarded them to Herr P. in hopes it would expedite the search. Imagine my disappointment when he notified me that the village named Linda of our pursuit was the wrong town. We wanted the other Linda, 150 miles to the east. Yes, that one is near the Czech border as well, in Saxony. So, I cancelled the hotel, thanked my new friend, Herr P. and began again.

The larger city very close to the new Linda is Frieberg. Google, who usually knows all, brought up Freiburg. Not noticing at first the spelling problem, I made my pan of attack as above. Luckily the first person I spoke with at the public library was a kind English speaking gentleman. I explained about my search for Linda archives. He had never heard of the town, which struck me as strange as it is only 5 miles from Frieberg. I heard him clicking computer keys and emit a long ooh. He told me I wanted the other town, spelled with an e, and I was talking to the town spelled with a u. He wished me luck because he said it was possible I would not find an English speaking person in the smaller locations, but maybe Russian. The area had been East Germany for 40 years. 

Back to the drawing board,and another early morning on the phone. I have gotten over my embarrassment of phoning foreign numbers and blurting out "I only speak English, can you  help me?"

Finally, at the Frieberg library the receptionist called on her colleague Astrid, who speaks English. She was most encouraging. I emailed the document, photos and background information. She emailed back that it would be forwarded to the proper people, and she said she would talk to her friend in Linda whose parents have lived there for many years.

Stay tuned.