In October 1989, I was in Berlin for the first time. Small town boy, big city lights. We flew with Pan-Am back then. The airline also doesn’t exist anymore.
I caught about the last possible glimpse at the wall in its concrete dividing brutality, looking eastward from the visitor platform at the Brandenburg gate. The next time I experienced a similar feeling was in 2008, on the UN premises in Panmunjom, South Korea, looking north. And in 2012, in the Banksy gift shop, right next to the wall in Bethlehem.
West-Berlin was an oasis of calm before the storm. On October 18th, my mother, who hails from East Germany, my sister and I were having lunch at the famous Kaffee Kranzler on the Ku’Damm, at the time West Berlin’s main shopping street. I was facing a big info wall attached to a building across the street. When I read and told my mother that, according to news reports, Erich Honecker, the GDR’s head of state and chairman of the state council since 1971, had just been removed from power, she could hardly believe it. That was a common reaction to a lot of things happening in those days.
Just that afternoon we were doing a state-run bus tour of East Berlin. Some parts of the tour could still be executed according to the last four year plan. Forced currency exchange, Soviet war memorial, and Pergamon museum. Others not so much. There was not enough cake left for the Kaffee klatch at the state-run coffee house, not even for Western tourists paying in Dollars or Deutsche Mark. Too many former employees had already answered the call of freedom and had left the socialist workers’ and famers’ state for Hungary.
Decay and new hope were palpable with both hands in East Berlin that day, while nearby, the GDR’s top brass desperately hoped that replacing Erich Honecker with Egon Krenz would allow their regime to survive. On the way back to the West, our bus was searched for 45 minuts by the East German border control. At a border that would only exist for a couple more days.
In June 1990, I was in Berlin for the second time. One week before East Germany was to become part of the two Germany’s economic and currency union. This time, I walked through the Brandenburg Gate. On the way to Potsdam, border police didn’t even bother to check our passports anymore. A lot can happen in seven months.
These days, I’m in Berlin relatively often. Because what belonged together, grew together, eventually. Of course, there are still a number of things, biographies, opinions, that divide East and West Germany, particularly in Berlin. But it is no longer a wall. Not in the city, and not in the hearts.
To Europe! To Germany! To Berlin! Poor, sexy, but united. And to the hope, that, one day, families, friends, and lovers will no longer be separated anywhere by walls and borders on maps and in minds.
[ I originally posted this story in German on https://fallofthewall25.com/weltweit#Tobias+Schwarz where you can find more personal wall-stories from all over the world. // photo credit: Press foto / Visualisierung der LICHTGRENZE am Brandenburger Tor © Kulturprojekte Berlin_WHITEvoid / Christopher Bauder, Foto: Daniel Büche / http://www.berlin.de/mauerfall2014/presse/pressebilder ]