November 9^th marks the 35^th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall.  It has been on my mind a lot lately.  Over the last month I’ve read a few books to get the “modern” perspective on the events that led to one of the most momentous events in my lifetime.  As a genealogist I find it important to think about the context of history.  I read a lot of stories, biographical and fiction, because I like to get in the head of a person who experienced something firsthand.  Historians sometimes explain how an event occurred and how people felt about it.  That rankles me a bit.  I don’t like to be told what an event meant, because perspective is personal.  It is the reason stories are so powerful.  It gives us a chance to walk in someone else’s shoes.  So today, here is my story.  I hope you write yours too.

Sometime in high school I began to focus on Germany.  Perhaps it was the foreign exchange student Christine or the German language classes with Mr. Crutcher.  It might have been that around that time we learned that we are related to a famous German.  I wrote that story in another recent post.  Who knows!  But by the time I got to college at the University of Missouri, I majored in Political Science with a minor in German (that would change to 2 BA degrees, you can read that story here).  It was then fortune smiled.  In the fall of 1989, I was taking a class on modern European history with an instructor who changed my life.  Robin Remington was amazing.  She had lived in Yugoslavia for several years and had spent much of her life studying Central and Eastern Europe.  While I am certain that we had a syllabus to begin the course, it was quickly thrown out the door as events across Europe were moving in fast forward.  We were required to subscribe and read the New York Times and discuss what was happening.  The night the wall fell we were glued to the television watching Tom Brokaw report from the Brandenburg Gate.  If you are unfamiliar with the story of the fall, you can read my post from the 30^th anniversary here.  Suffice to say it was mesmerizing to see the raw emotion of those on the Wall and those walking through it, sometimes getting hugs from friends and family members, or complete strangers who welcomed them to the West.   

Historical accounts are filled with stories of political leaders from every nation, East and West, being summoned by their underlings to learn that history was happening.  No one expected it.  Not a single soul.  Some of those same accounts credit George H.W. Bush for not dancing on the grave of communism.  But I also read a perspective in The Collapse: The Accidental Opening of the Berlin Wall (2014) by Mary Elise Sarotte that suggested the mere fact of having more pieces of the Berlin Wall in the United States than anywhere else on the planet spoke louder than words.  Americans wanted the Wall pieces as proof of winning the Cold War – tangible proof of our triumph.   

According to Wikipedia there are pieces of the Wall in multiple locations in twenty-seven states and the District of Columbia.  I have seen many of them in person; none more powerful than in Fulton, Missouri.  Fulton, where Winston Churchill gave his Iron Curtain speech in 1946, is the location of the National Churchill Museum and Winston’s Granddaughter Edwin Sandys sculpture “Breakthrough” comprised of eight sections of the Wall that had stood near the Brandenburg Gate.  She chose those sections because of the repeated use of the word “UnWahr” meaning lies.[1]  I attended the unveiling of the sculpture on the one-year anniversary.  Along with the artist, Former President Ronald Reagan and other dignitaries heralded the artwork and what it represented.

About a month later, my brother graduated from the University of Missouri, located in Columbia, MO, which sits about 30 miles from Fulton.  I do not come from a family of historians, so it is likely that I was the one to suggest we go see it.  But now that I think back, I am very grateful for that day and the fact that all of us, my parents, siblings and in-laws piled in our cars and drove to Fulton.  We did not high-five one another for destroying communism.  Instead, each of us looked, touched and walked through the Wall.  I can’t tell you what each person was thinking.  I don’t remember what was said. But looking back on the photos I see us walking around in quiet contemplation.  Maybe we were thinking about what it was like to have lived in a place where walls kept you in and there was little hope of a future wherein every aspect of your life was not decided by a dictatorship.    

Americans are lucky to live in a democracy.  I know we don’t always feel lucky.  I certainly don’t.  But I have stood on many borders around the world where governments made all the choices.  We need to understand that democracy is a work in progress and it requires action and alertness.  It requires us to focus our efforts not simply on being angry or accepting, but ensuring that we don’t allow anyone to take away what can so easily be taken for granted.

[1] “The Berlin Wall: A Historical Artifact.” American’s National Churchill Museum, accessed on November 9, 2024 at https://www.nationalchurchillmuseum.org/berlin-wall-history.html.