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berlin wall, twenty years on
Nov. 9th, 2009 03:56 pmSo I was six years old, twenty years ago, and I was living on an army base in Germany. Or rather I should say West Germany.
I remember sitting at home watching cartoons with my brother when my dad came home and told us to switch to the German stations. (Our TV had a... thingy, setting, that could be switched to watch the Armed Forces Network, in English, or any of the German broadcast stations.) There was footage of people walking through checkpoints, lots of excitement, lots of happiness and a fair bit of chaos, as I remember. I couldn't understand the broadcasters were saying, but my dad said something to the effect that the wall was open, or coming down, and people were able to travel back and forth. It was a long time ago, and I was little, I don't remember exactly what he said, but I clearly remember both my mom and my dad sitting in front of the TV, watching. (My parents had both been in the Army, had both been stationed in Berlin before I was born -- that was where they fell in love, in fact.) And I clearly remember my dad telling me to remember this, that it was enormous.
I remember him flicking through channels, trying to find more information (he could understand German very well) -- flick flick flick -- and every station had the same feeds. It had taken over the airwaves. Well, of course it had.
I remember -- and I think this must have been days or even weeks later, but as I said, I was little, and things blur together -- another time when we were watching on the German networks, seeing people knocking a hole in a graffiti-ed wall, and then a woman with curly dark hair coming through the gap, and the people around her helping her. I remember that quite clearly.
A few months later, we traveled to East Germany and to Berlin. (There's a funny story about that. My dad brought a sledgehammer to knock off a chunk of the wall, and put it in his tote bag. While we were visiting Berlin, we were in a museum, and midway through one of the guides noticed that one of the people on the tour had an umbrella. She sent him back to the beginning to drop it off at coat check, so that he wouldn't damage anything. My mom and dad say they realized at the same time that they were walking through a museum with a sledgehammer in their bag, because they'd forgotten to rearrange the bags. Fortunately, no one checked the bags, and as my parents do not have a habit of knocking arms off statues, all was well.) I have a piece of the wall somewhere at home.
I was too little to understand the politics or the import, really, but I remember my father's face, and I remember thinking, This must be huge.
I remember sitting at home watching cartoons with my brother when my dad came home and told us to switch to the German stations. (Our TV had a... thingy, setting, that could be switched to watch the Armed Forces Network, in English, or any of the German broadcast stations.) There was footage of people walking through checkpoints, lots of excitement, lots of happiness and a fair bit of chaos, as I remember. I couldn't understand the broadcasters were saying, but my dad said something to the effect that the wall was open, or coming down, and people were able to travel back and forth. It was a long time ago, and I was little, I don't remember exactly what he said, but I clearly remember both my mom and my dad sitting in front of the TV, watching. (My parents had both been in the Army, had both been stationed in Berlin before I was born -- that was where they fell in love, in fact.) And I clearly remember my dad telling me to remember this, that it was enormous.
I remember him flicking through channels, trying to find more information (he could understand German very well) -- flick flick flick -- and every station had the same feeds. It had taken over the airwaves. Well, of course it had.
I remember -- and I think this must have been days or even weeks later, but as I said, I was little, and things blur together -- another time when we were watching on the German networks, seeing people knocking a hole in a graffiti-ed wall, and then a woman with curly dark hair coming through the gap, and the people around her helping her. I remember that quite clearly.
A few months later, we traveled to East Germany and to Berlin. (There's a funny story about that. My dad brought a sledgehammer to knock off a chunk of the wall, and put it in his tote bag. While we were visiting Berlin, we were in a museum, and midway through one of the guides noticed that one of the people on the tour had an umbrella. She sent him back to the beginning to drop it off at coat check, so that he wouldn't damage anything. My mom and dad say they realized at the same time that they were walking through a museum with a sledgehammer in their bag, because they'd forgotten to rearrange the bags. Fortunately, no one checked the bags, and as my parents do not have a habit of knocking arms off statues, all was well.) I have a piece of the wall somewhere at home.
I was too little to understand the politics or the import, really, but I remember my father's face, and I remember thinking, This must be huge.
