Whoa, what a day. I know I say that a lot, but today was one I will not forget. It included moments that literally flattened me, along with some of the most meaningful moments I will ever experience, even with the weight of what we were doing. I will do my best to represent all of the emotions of the day and I hope you can feel the power of these experiences for me. It was a raw and personal day, with each step getting heavier and heavier as we started with the dehumanization of the Jews in Germany, then went to the place where the fate of European Jewry was sealed and then experiencing the place where we felt the nazis following through with their promise. And finally, in a total act of irony, we brought in Shabbat with a service at a synagogue in Berlin, standing in prayer in defiance of what the nazis tried to do.
Our day began with a lovely stroll through the Bavarian Quarter of Berlin. While yesterday we were solely in what was Soviet controlled East Berlin, today we were getting a taste of what West Berlin would have felt like. During this casual stroll through the neighborhood we encountered the Places of Remembrance memorial, which are 80 seemingly randomly hung street signs that highlight anti-Jewish laws and regulations established by the nazis. Through this walk we were able to see how each law seemed to cave in on the Jews and slowly but surely, step by step, dehumanized them and isolated them. It was horrifying.
The signs seemed to really blend in to the surroundings, had Tal not pointed them out to us, we would have walked right by. I will post both sides of the signs so you can see them.
This first sign was from 1939, shows a park bench and says that Jews can no longer sit on benches.
We walked further.
This next sign showing a loaf of bread was placed in front of a bakery, and represents a law passed on July 4, 1940 stating that Jews can only purchase groceries between 4 and 5 pm. Imagine trying to find any fresh bread at 4 pm. It is not possible.
We walk further.
We continue walking and we see our first stumbling stone of the day.
Here was someone who was affected by all of these crazy laws. The tears start to flow.
Look how beautiful the area is. It must have been so nice to live in such a beautiful neighborhood. And then we look up and see:
This sign is a reminder that in 1940 a law was passed stating that any phone connections owned by Jews were immediately cancelled, and they could no longer have television sets. This was a way to alienate us from society and be sure that we could not contact others to share what was happening. But things couldn’t possibly get worse, right?
Tal explained to us as we walked that the nazis could tell who was Jewish by their tax returns. If they saw a record of someone paying dues or making a donation to a synagogue, or sending their children to a Jewish school, that would give them the confirmation they needed.
We walk down the street that Albert Einstein lived on and stopped by a memorial that is on the grounds where his synagogue once stood. Today it is a school and as we were walking we heard the glorious sound of children playing in the yard.
This synagogue was unharmed during the November Pogrom because it was attached to a residential building. It was demolished in 1956.
We learned that at this school behind the memorial (not a Jewish school) every student does a special project in their final year. They select one child who died during the Holocaust, do research on the child and their history and write about them. Then they add their names to the brick wall that is on the playground, almost as if they are inviting the souls of these children to join them in their recess games. It is a beautiful program.
It reminds me a lot of our Remember Us Program, where we twin our bar and bat mitzvah students with children who died during the Holocaust before they could become a bar or bat mitzvah. Our students symbolically share their experience with these precious children who should have had the experience for themselves. It is a powerful program I am proud to administer.
We keep walking.
Jewish men must add the name Israel to their name and women must add the name Sara to theirs. This law, passed on August 17, 1938 was another way that made it easier for Jews to be identified.
We continue walking.
Notice how beautiful this area is. We learn this is an expensive part of town.
In 1939 the law was passed that Jews are allowed to be evicted from their homes for any reason. If the home is rented, the lease is ended immediately and they must all live in designated Jewish homes.
Our next set of stumbling stones. I wonder how these laws impacted them?
This early law from 1933 states that Jewish civil servants are to be removed from their positions immediately.
And this law from February 16, 1945 stating that any proof of an anti-Jewish act must be destroyed. Let that sink in. With each step the weight of the nazi hammer grew heavier and heavier. We could feel the isolation the Jews of Germany must have felt. And people often ask why didn’t they leave? Many did manage to leave and flee to other European countries where they faced the same fate as in Germany. And other countries were not too keen on taking Jewish immigrants. By 1941 all immigration was stopped. That law was represented by a black sign with no picture on it.
As we approached the City Hall in Schulenberg we saw the Israeli and Ukrainian flags flying together.
These are an act of unity, the Ukrainian flag flying since 2022 when the Russian invasion began and the Israeli flag flying since October 7, and they vow to keep it flying until all hostages are home. Perhaps if we can see an Israeli flag flying in Germany, what was once the center of hatred toward the Jews, there is hope for humanity.
We boarded our bus and headed to our next stop. We learned that the original plan was never to exterminate the Jews. Originally, the plan was to make us simply leave Germany. Go anywhere else, just don’t stay here. In 1938 and 1939 before the war, nazi leaders met and discussed moving German and European Jews to the island of Madagascar. When that proved to be impossible, they thought we could go to the Ukraine.
Everything changed on June 22, 1941 when Hitler attacked Stalin with the Barbarossa Operation. Then the killing of Jews started to happen with regularity. One million Jews were shot into pits, but this was not fast enough. And the bullets were expensive, not to mention the toll it takes on the shooter. In late 1941, they decide to implement the final solution.
On January 20, 1942, at a beautiful villa in Wannsee, a brief conference followed by a brunch was held, under the leadership of Heydrich, in coordination with Eichman, both of whom were monster agents of death. There were fifteen people in all present at this meeting, more than half holding phd’s from Europe’s finest academic institutions. The participants were officers of some kind, most are relatively unknown. The administrative meeting lasted no more than an hour and at this meeting they discussed the “final solution to the Jewish problem,” the systematic extermination of 11,000,000 Jews in Europe. And then they shared in a brunch. I hope their eggs weren’t cold.
Originally built by an industrialist and taken over by the nazis, the Wannsee Villa is a beautiful facility sitting lakefront on the Wann Lake (this is what Wannsee means).
This is a place I knew I had to see with my own eyes, much like Auschwitz. I wanted to see it to learn all I can about this horrible moment in history and to shout out loud that I, a Jew who was supposed to be part of an exterminated race, am here, I am proud, AM YISRAEL CHAI!
While is hard to explain how the site of the Wannsee Conference was an appropriate place for me to take a selfie, I wanted to document the fact I was indeed standing here today, November 15, 2024, almost 80 years after Hitler took his own life. This is a day I will not forget.
I took this photo as evidence that our group of 34 souls from Temple Adat Elohim was here while the only trace of the nazis were the artifacts that proved the meeting happened in the first place. We learned that each of the participants was given a document, 16 pages in all, that detailed the meeting. It included one page (page 6 if you were interested) that listed all of the Jews in Europe, 11,000,000 in total. It was even sure not to leave out Albania who had only 200 Jews. All of the participants were supposed to destroy all evidence of this meeting (meaning to destroy the document).
14 of them did.
1 did not.
Sadly, he was already arrested by Allied forces and was unable to burn this document. The US soldiers found it and the rest is history. Thankfully that document is preserved and we were able to see it in its entirety in this museum.
Notice the beautiful view from the villa. It is hard not to be swept up in the beauty of the place.
As I entered the villa, a cold chill filled the air. I felt an anger like I have not experienced before. And as I made my way into the actual room where this meeting is supposed to have occurred, I silently sang the Shema, my own act of protest against the evil that lives in this space.
Here are the participants of this infamous brunch. I wonder if they had coffee or tea with their meal? All of those signs in the Bavarian Quarter diminishing the Jews, making them less than human, helped to lead to this moment when these 15 people chose their fate. The tears flow and the rage burns. And then I start to read the 16 page document.
While preserved behind glass I was careful to read each and every word, as it is translated below the original shown in the photo. It was so matter of fact, so concise. I could barely see through the tears.
And then I get to page 6, the infamous list of European Jewry. My body freezes and my hands hurt from clenching my fists so tightly. I can barely take the photo.
To be honest, I have no idea how long I stood in front of this page. How much longer would it be before my name was on this list?
We stayed in the villa for an hour, about the same amount of time the actual meeting took. In one hour, thanks to Heydrich’s hard work and preparation, the details were set and the logistics were worked out. Finally, there was a final solution to the Jewish question. As we exited the villa and headed to the bus I noticed that many in our group were standing alone on different parts of the grounds. Some made their way down to the water, some wandered through the gardens that were beautifully maintained and we can imagine how spectacular they would be in Springtime, some were looking closely at the many sculptures that grace the grounds, and some were standing in different parts of the museum with their eyes fixed much like mine were on page 6. We walked out the same door the 15 participants used to leave the meeting on January 20, 1942.
Something to note. I do not remember much of the exhibits in the museum that exist on the first floor of the villa. For me, the place itself is the exhibit. The architecture, the beauty, the coldness, the document. Page 6. This is what I remember.
We boarded our bus mostly in silence as we made our way to lunch at a local, beautiful lakefront restaurant.
We boarded our bus for the next stop on our day’s travels, Gleis 17, the railway track that was used to deport countless Berlin Jews to the death camps. It has also been called the Path to Auschwitz.
There is no way to prepare for a visit like this. If the signs in the Bavarian Quarter laid the foundation for us to be less than human, and the Wannsee Villa sealed our fate as Jews in that short brunch, Gleis 17 is the nazi’s following through on the promise to rid the world of the vermin called the Jews. The progression is devastating but frighteningly predictable.
We stopped in front of the first of 3 memorials before heading up to the tracks.
If you look closely, the date of October 18, 1941 is carved into the wood that reminds us of the train tracks. This is the date of the first deportation of Jews from this platform. By the way, you should know a few things about these deportations. First, the Jews being sent on these transports had to pay for their deportation. If they didn’t have enough money to cover the cost, the nazis could seize their possessions instead. This act ensured that they had very clear records of who was on each transport. And once a Jew was called for deportation they had to walk to the train tracks in the middle of the night, with the transports leaving between 3 and 4 in the morning. This was so there was less of a chance that a German could claim that they saw what was happening.
This second memorial looks a lot like tombstones, and notice how these have no names on them, just like the countless Jews who never had a proper burial. This simple memorial is devastating. When I step back I see these trees along with these two memorials.
Auschwitz is actually many camps, with one being infamous as the death camp, Auschwitz Birkenau. "Birken" means "birch tree" in German, which is why these birch trees are planted in this memorial.
The third memorial is really for the Germans, reminding them of what they did (and maybe what they didn’t do?) during this terrible time in history. The shadow figures carved into the stones can only be the Jews marching their way up this very street to Gleis 17.
It is important to note that the deportations did not use the passenger terminal at the train station. No, that would not be suitable for Jews. Instead, we were forced to march up the hill to where the freight trains were loaded.
Each steel plate represents a different transport, with the date, the number of Jews on board and the destination listed.
It is a very simple memorial. There is no need for a statue. The site itself is the memorial. As we stand and weep we can hear the sound of trains running on tracks adjacent to us. This brings the terror to life.
Milt Zweig found the steel plate that represented the transport his great grandmother was on. He placed some flowers and a photo of her on the platform. We decided as a group we would gather around him and this platform and have our brief memorial service in her honor.
There are times when words fail to express the meaning of a moment. There are times when the pain is so deep that there is nothing you can say, nothing you can do. In these moments, we do what we do best, we gather in community and we pray. As I started playing the first song I could hardly get the sound out through the tears. I was grateful to have the support of my community with me. I hope I gave them a little strength, too.
Milt shared a little about his great grandmother, Minna Korach. He shared that the family left for South America but she insisted on staying in Germany. She was deported to Terezin where she died in January 1943. He shared that her last moments of freedom were standing on this spot. That hit us all deep.
When I ever discuss Holocaust education, I always remind people of what a teacher shared with me. We hear numbers a lot in terms of the Holocaust. We hear 6,000,000 Jews died. 6 million Jews. that is a number I cannot possibly comprehend. My teacher share with me that it was not 6 million Jews who died. It was 1 single Jew who died. 6 million times. Thinking of the Holocaust this way allows me to find a deeper meaning in this inconceivable number. Having Milt share Minna’s story with us made this more personal. We said Kaddish for her on the spot where she lost her freedom. Ron placed a memorial candle near Milt’s flowers.
Next week we will visit Terezin, the camp where Minna died.
There is a power to community. This was one of the most difficult and one of the most meaningful memorial services I have ever participated in. Part of the reason was because of where we were. We were standing on the tracks where so many Jews had their last moments before deportation, we were hearing the clanking sounds of the adjacent trains reminding us of the clanking sound of the steel plates at the Shalekhet exhibit at the Jewish Museum, we just came from Wannsee where the fate of these poor Jews was sealed, we felt the cold chill in the air, the slight drizzle of moisture gently falling from the sky. And we were surrounded and supported by community. The hugs we shared after this service were some of the most meaningful hugs I’ve experienced.
We really felt the progression of 1933 - 1945, from Hitler’s rise to power, the laws passed to dehumanize Jews that led to the decision and the carrying out of the final solution. After this pathway to darkness, we found some much needed light when we went to share a Shabbat service at Oranienburgerstrasse Synagogue, on the site of the New Temple. The synagogue, in all of it’s glory back in the day, was the one where one of the most prominent Jewish composers, Louis Lewandowski wrote his incredible Jewish music for, and you could feel his presence in the walls of this place. I swear I could hear the choir singing some of his iconic music, some we do at TAE. It was amazing to be in the “house that Lewadnsowski built.” Here we joined with the local Jewish community in prayer and shared a delicious home cooked meal with members of the community and another group that traveled to Berlin like we did. We knew that the sanctuary had been damaged in the Allied bombings during World War 2. Our service was held in what used to be the woman’s section, which overlooks the place where the sanctuary would have stood. Now empty, except for an outline that shows where the building used to stand, shows that there are horrible losses that came from this terrible time in history. The rabbi explained that they will never rebuild the 3,000 seat sanctuary because it would be like erasing what had happened, and that does not respect the victims of nazi hatred. Instead that outline will serve as a constant reminder that we have much building to do in our world, and that the brokenness of the Holocaust will never be totally gone. While I wish I could have seen the sanctuary in all of its glory, I think that she is right. We move forward. We walk ahead. But we do not forget, and we do not try to make it as if it didn’t happen. Instead, we bring this with us, we learn, we grow and we vow to do all we can to bring so much light to our world that there cannot be any darkness again. That is quite a message on this Shabbat in Berlin.
No comments:
Post a Comment