In the Footsteps of Anne Frank
Trip Start
Jul 01, 2008
1
5
13
Trip End
Jul 31, 2008
Amsterdam,
Netherlands
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Today, my wife and I took that walk on the 66th anniversary of that horrible day when the the Frank family inhaled their last breaths of fresh air before 25 months of confinement inside "The Secret Annex". We began at the Frank family's Amsterdam residence, one in a series of municipal looking flats about 15 minutes walk from our hotel. We knew we had arrived when we spied the slender onyx statue of Anne in the wide, grassy commonspace between the apartment buildings. Some flowers, even a line of Buddhist prayer flags, surrounded her.
On this date, Anne Frank and her mother and father, all wearing heavy coats displaying huge yellow Stars of David that might as well have been targets, over several layers of clothing, weaved their way from home two and a half city miles to Otto Frank's spice factory.
Anne's older sister, Margot, had earlier made the trip by bicycle with family friend Miep Gies. Jews were not allowed to ride bikes or go outside without the Star of David on their clothing. But Margot's situation was desperate and she had broken both laws to escape the consequences of an official letter the family had received the day before. Margot had recently turned sixteen and the letter bluntly informed the family that it was time now for her to go off to the work camps. Otto Frank knew what that meant for his oldest daughter and none of it was pleasant.
Otto had been preparing for this awful eventuality for some time, months in fact. He had trusted employees to help him prepare the old warehouse in the rear of his factory (he had earlier signed over his company to his non-Jewish friends in order for them all to continue his highly successful business). The warehouse annex was stocked with furniture, food, clothes, necessities, everything Otto felt was needed for a stay of indefinite measure. At all costs, he had wanted the family to stay together.
As Elaine and I tried to pick the routes that Anne and her parents might have followed, we remembered Anne's diary entry of July 9th, 1942. She recalled that it had been raining hard and cold (that's something I can relate to because the cloudbursts here in July have happened exactly that way; we were trudging in one about an hour ago). She reported that people on the trams, in cars, in store and cafe windows, stared at them and the Jewish stars emblazoned on their jackets; and then quickly looked away, ashamed that they could, in no way, offer help. The Franks' was a determined exodus, trying not to be stopped by the Gestapo, German soldiers, or the Dutch police. There were so many things, harsh laws in the Dutch books and plain mean people, that could have derailed their escape, gotten them arrested, deported, even shot that day.
This early afternoon, I just kept looking at the thousands of windows in the narrow Amsterdam streets.
Paranoia was creeping in and I didn't have anything to be afraid of.
I felt Otto's stomach loosening as his perspiration mixed with the downpour, assertively moving his wife and youngest daughter along, trying to look calm, not too frantic, "Hey, it's a little rain, we Jews can handle a little rain! We have for centuries." He was a dignified, straight-backed, tall, pencil-mustached man who habitually wore a suit and tie to manage his company each day. The only way he was able to go into hiding within Nazi-occupied Amsterdam (not only with his own family but with the three Van Pehls and Mr. Pfieffer as well!) was because he had the deep respect and love of his employees. And they would not let him or the others in that Annex down for 25 months; even when most of the food and materials in the Netherlands were being hijacked to Germany and the ration cards cost more and more and brought less and less.
The walk took us two and a half hours. We went leisurely, videotaping Elaine's thoughts on the walk for the documentary she is making for her 8th grade English students. Hundreds of people were milling around the "straats". There were infinite masses of brightly colored flowers popping out of boxes everywhere: from stairways, balconies, bridges, store and cafe fronts... the sun was playing games behind the clouds, the temperature changed dramatically every few minutes. Commercial cruiseboats meandered nonchalantly through the canals with their payloads of champaigne weilding passengers. At times, a bit of drizzling rain would add a rainbow to the vista. The last thing I wanted to do today was go inside. The last thing I wanted to feel today was afraid. Today was a perfect Amsterdam day!
We walked back to our hotel and I tried to smile as much as I could. I tried to enjoy the moments of sheer freedom as much as I could; for tomorrow, we go to Westerbork Transit Camp.
I knew Otto would understand.
