I knew what it felt like to live in Berlin – it felt like a benevolent trap – not because I felt trapped, per sey, but because you had this constant knowledge, in the back of your heart, that you could not leave this city. Imagine coming back to a place after more than two decades – a place you loved, a place you understood – and finding it entirely different – not just larger, but fundamentally a different place. Now, that exact same piece of land is fantastic – not because commerce and Westernism is so perfect…but because freedom itself gives joy. Now it's the very real seat of parliament for Germany.Įverything was gray in East Berlin back then. So, seeing that wall still standing – even though I could obviously go around it now – just made all those emotions come roaring back.
Even, of course, to the extent of killing them if they tried to escape. It was all so wrong for any country to imprison their people – and all in the guise of keeping them safe. That’s how going to the East used to make me feel.
The instant I saw the wall, and drew close to its shadow, I grew cross, grumpy, and withdrawn. There are a couple places in the city today where huge chunks of the wall are still in place as a memorial. To hear about something is one thing, but to see it and touch it is quite another. And now, all these years later…I was walking beneath the actual Brandenburg Gate!! I touched the pillars and just stood there a while, letting it all soak in. I remember thinking that Reagan was an optimist, that was for sure. This statue is titled, "Cry Freedom" and I remember it from the days when it was almost a plea - today it's more of a cry of victory.Īs we stood and listened to Reagan’s speech, there were East German guards standing ON the Gate with honking huge guns in hand. (“Chen” is a diminutive.) By the time I got to the third checkpoint and the guards chuckled yet again, I said, “It’s my name, right?” “Ya, ya!” We had to go through three checkpoints just to get there – in which I was laughed at by the German guards at each one because of my name on the invitation – “Gretchen” is a child’s name in Germany, and “Greta” would be the adult form.
Last time I’d been that close to the Gate, I was watching President Ronald Reagan give his famous “Tear Down This Wall” speech with my mother. I could walk under it now! And, low and behold, the US Embassy actually TOUCHES the gate (with the French and British embassies close at hand – the three allied countries which oversaw West Berlin). Imagine kidnapping such an enormous thing! And back in the day before cranes!Īnd, of course, the most magic thing of all: the open Brandenburger Tor – the Brandenburg Gate. I'd never seen it from the Eastern side before! There's a story about how she was kidnapped by Napoleon in 1806 and taken to Paris. The Quadriga on the top of the Brandenburg Gate.
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