Inge Franken

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fehrbelliner92:gittel [2007/11/21 10:39]
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fehrbelliner92:gittel [2007/11/21 10:40]
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 Frau Nickel told me straight away, on the telephone, that her two sisters had been deported on one of the last “transports”,​ the transfers to Auschwitz, and that she herself, not born until after the war, had always felt that it was her life's task to take the place of her two murdered sisters. ​ Frau Nickel told me straight away, on the telephone, that her two sisters had been deported on one of the last “transports”,​ the transfers to Auschwitz, and that she herself, not born until after the war, had always felt that it was her life's task to take the place of her two murdered sisters. ​
  
-At our meeting a few days later, in Christinenstrasse,​ only five minutes away from the former children’s home, I was received with great openness. I was very pleased about this, because she also told me that talking to me, the daughter of a Nazi, especially in her own flat, would not have been possible a few years previously. We sat in the same room in which two little girls had lived with their mother, 60 years ago. They attended the kindergarten in Fehrbelliner Strasse daily for a year. Even when the home moved into the Manheimer’s old people’s home in the summer of 1942, the children still went there every day. The only playground for the children at that time was the old Jewish cemetery in Schönhauser Allee. They had nowhere else to play. After the “fabrik-aktion” in February 1943, the factory raid when Jews were picked up from their workplaces, the mother went into hiding with her daughters. The children were discovered in their hiding place in Weimar in 1944 and then murdered in Auschwitz, while their mother survived. ​+At our meeting a few days later, in Christinenstrasse,​ only five minutes away from the former children’s home, Frau Nickel ​received ​me with great openness. I was very pleased about this, because she also told me that talking to me, the daughter of a Nazi, especially in her own flat, would not have been possible a few years previously. We sat in the same room in which two little girls had lived with their mother, 60 years ago. They attended the kindergarten in Fehrbelliner Strasse daily for a year. Even when the home moved into the Manheimer’s old people’s home in the summer of 1942, the children still went there every day. The only playground for the children at that time was the old Jewish cemetery in Schönhauser Allee. They had nowhere else to play. After the “fabrik-aktion” in February 1943, the factory raid when Jews were picked up from their workplaces, the mother went into hiding with her daughters. The children were discovered in their hiding place in Weimar in 1944 and then murdered in Auschwitz, while their mother survived. ​
  
 The life stories of Eva Nickel’s mother and sisters make it easy for me to understand her reservations about me, as I am not Jewish. We talked a great deal about ourselves, about living with the family history and the heritage which we each feel, in very different ways. We looked at photos together and were aware of the spirit of the past, but also of our present, which bound us together. When I asked Eva Nickel, who was born some years after the end of the war, whether she had written down the story of her mother and sisters, she simply said, “No, I don’t feel able to do that, but Regina Scheer has done it.” This is how I heard of the book “Leben mit der Erinnerung. Jüdisches Leben in Prenzlauer Berg” [Living with Memories. Jewish Life in Prenzlauer Berg: author’s translation],​ where I read the text “Eva’s House.” ​   The life stories of Eva Nickel’s mother and sisters make it easy for me to understand her reservations about me, as I am not Jewish. We talked a great deal about ourselves, about living with the family history and the heritage which we each feel, in very different ways. We looked at photos together and were aware of the spirit of the past, but also of our present, which bound us together. When I asked Eva Nickel, who was born some years after the end of the war, whether she had written down the story of her mother and sisters, she simply said, “No, I don’t feel able to do that, but Regina Scheer has done it.” This is how I heard of the book “Leben mit der Erinnerung. Jüdisches Leben in Prenzlauer Berg” [Living with Memories. Jewish Life in Prenzlauer Berg: author’s translation],​ where I read the text “Eva’s House.” ​