Another day in Dortmund
Day ??
I lost track of where I was in our travels. Over the several days that we were in Dortmund, my dad showed us the place where the house stood that he grew up in – both places. When he was small, he lived in Niederaden. The house had fallen into disrepair and was taken down. There was a tavern about a kilometer away where his father would send him for beer. He’d take a bucket and get the beer, then bring it home for his father and his father’s friends. Later, he moved to Eving. When he was twelve, he stared working in the coal mines. It was hard work but they didn’t give children work that was too difficult and that needed skilled hands to do. When he was fourteen his father, who also worked in the coal mines, told him of an opening in the laboratory for an apprentice chemist. The position would mean that he could stay above ground and get away from the dust and goo that is common in the mines. That was in 1934.
The Allies had another idea – destroy the energy supply system for Germany and humiliate the population through carpet bombing. It was hoped that the population would rise up and overthrow the government like what happened in Italy. The only problem was that there was no résistance in Germany like there was in Italy and the people had no power whatsoever to overthrow anything. One day, while at work in the lab, the air raid siren screamed. He took shelter in the mine. Deep underground was considered much safer that on the surface. When he rose to the surface again, the city was in ruin. He took his bicycle, which was miraculously spared and headed home – some 5 – 7 kilometers away. The going was difficult because buildings had collapsed in to the streets and many were on fire.
Arriving at the street to his home he met a barricade. The local official had closed the street because it was too dangerous due to the collapsed buildings and fire. Ducking back down a side street and cutting between houses he got back to the street where he hoped to find family and friends. His brother was away, working in a neighboring town. Both parents were at home as his father worked nights in the mine at that time.
The house that he lived in was one that was two stories taller with a livable attic (like the one in the picture on teh left). It was more of an apartment with different families living in the same building. When he finally got to where he could see the house, it wasn’t there. A bomb had made a direct hit. All that was left was smoking rubble. Nobody in the house survived. The house in the center of the picture is where it stood. For some time all he could do was sit, stare and sob. Then, his father placed a hand on his shoulder. He had been working in the woods with several men preparing a bomb shelter for the neighborhood. His mother was there as well. She was on her way to the woods with lunch for her husband when the air raid started. Miraculously, the whole family had survived.
A year later, just one day before his 15th birthday, Germany surrendered. They had spent it living n a corner of an attic with another family, in a room in another apartment with another family before deciding that it was time to leave.
It brought goose bumps visiting the places where all this happened and seeing the buildings that remained. The stories were more alive than before. And, I began to realize afresh what I already knew – my dad was very special. He had seen a lot, endured much and grew all the more wise because of it.
I lost track of where I was in our travels. Over the several days that we were in Dortmund, my dad showed us the place where the house stood that he grew up in – both places. When he was small, he lived in Niederaden. The house had fallen into disrepair and was taken down. There was a tavern about a kilometer away where his father would send him for beer. He’d take a bucket and get the beer, then bring it home for his father and his father’s friends. Later, he moved to Eving. When he was twelve, he stared working in the coal mines. It was hard work but they didn’t give children work that was too difficult and that needed skilled hands to do. When he was fourteen his father, who also worked in the coal mines, told him of an opening in the laboratory for an apprentice chemist. The position would mean that he could stay above ground and get away from the dust and goo that is common in the mines. That was in 1934.
The Allies had another idea – destroy the energy supply system for Germany and humiliate the population through carpet bombing. It was hoped that the population would rise up and overthrow the government like what happened in Italy. The only problem was that there was no résistance in Germany like there was in Italy and the people had no power whatsoever to overthrow anything. One day, while at work in the lab, the air raid siren screamed. He took shelter in the mine. Deep underground was considered much safer that on the surface. When he rose to the surface again, the city was in ruin. He took his bicycle, which was miraculously spared and headed home – some 5 – 7 kilometers away. The going was difficult because buildings had collapsed in to the streets and many were on fire.
Arriving at the street to his home he met a barricade. The local official had closed the street because it was too dangerous due to the collapsed buildings and fire. Ducking back down a side street and cutting between houses he got back to the street where he hoped to find family and friends. His brother was away, working in a neighboring town. Both parents were at home as his father worked nights in the mine at that time.
The house that he lived in was one that was two stories taller with a livable attic (like the one in the picture on teh left). It was more of an apartment with different families living in the same building. When he finally got to where he could see the house, it wasn’t there. A bomb had made a direct hit. All that was left was smoking rubble. Nobody in the house survived. The house in the center of the picture is where it stood. For some time all he could do was sit, stare and sob. Then, his father placed a hand on his shoulder. He had been working in the woods with several men preparing a bomb shelter for the neighborhood. His mother was there as well. She was on her way to the woods with lunch for her husband when the air raid started. Miraculously, the whole family had survived.
A year later, just one day before his 15th birthday, Germany surrendered. They had spent it living n a corner of an attic with another family, in a room in another apartment with another family before deciding that it was time to leave.
It brought goose bumps visiting the places where all this happened and seeing the buildings that remained. The stories were more alive than before. And, I began to realize afresh what I already knew – my dad was very special. He had seen a lot, endured much and grew all the more wise because of it.
posted by genebko at
9:09 AM
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