In October 2008 a dumpsite was discovered on the outskirts of modern-day Berlin by an investigative journalist named Yaron Svoray. The site, the size of four football fields, contained an extensive array of personal and ceremonial items. Among the items found were glass bottles engraved with the Star of David, mezuzot, painted window sills, and the armrests of chairs found in synagogues, in addition to an ornamental swastika.
Seventy years earlier, as part of their policy leading up to World War II, the Nazis seized houses, shops, and other property of Jews. What Svoray found was suspected to be remnants of the looting of Jewish property which occurred during the Kristallnacht riot the night of 9 and 10 November 1938. It is believed after the riot the destroyed goods were removed from Berlin streets, brought by rail to Brandenburg village and dumped on designated land.
The Kristallnacht riot was in response to the apparent shooting of Ernst vom Rath by Herschel Grynszpan, in retribution for the deportation of his parents by the Nazis, who were Polish Jews. Vom Rath was a diplomat at the German embassy in Paris, who ironically was reported to not be terribly fond of the Nazis due to their treatment of Jews.
Hitler was advised of Ernst vom Rath’s death that evening while he was with several key members of the Nazi party, at a dinner commemorating the 1923 Beer Hall Putsch. Hitler took the assassination as a personal affront, as a direct threat to his security, and to that of the Nazi Party. After intense discussions, Hitler left the assembly abruptly without giving his address as expected.
Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels delivered the speech, in his place, and said that "the Führer has decided that... demonstrations should not be prepared or organized by the party, but insofar as they erupt spontaneously, they are not to be hampered." This may have been personally motivated on Goebbels’ part. Goebbels had recently suffered humiliation for the ineffectiveness of his propaganda campaign during the Sudeten crisis, and was in some disgrace over a purported affair with a Czech starlet by the name of Lida Baarova. Goebbels saw the event as his chance to improve his standing in Hitler’s eyes.
The message was clear, Goebbels had commanded the party leaders to organize a pogrom. His instructions were carried out by the Sturmabteilung (aka The Brownshirts) and members of the Hitler Youth. They incited interested German civilians to participate in the destruction of Jewish-owned homes, shops and places of worship. Many other civilians stood by in shock and tried to help the victims of the destruction.
Afterwards, the Nazi Propaganda Ministry spun Ernst vom Rath’s assassination as being the result of a homophil relationship gone bad.
Summer 1935:
“Remember to put these new books up in the front window, Kiva.”
“Yes, Papa.”
“And don’t forget to tidy up the records. They are always getting mixed up and then nobody can find anything,” his father called out over his shoulder as he passed through the door at the back of the dusty shop. The back room was used for storage and cleaning supplies. It also had a tiny staircase leading up to their rooms on the second floor of the shop. Their delivery bicycle with its big front basket was propped beside the door to the yard.
“Yes, Papa.”
His father’s bookshop, established by his father before him, was located in the Hackesche Hofe and catered to book and music lovers of all kinds, from Berlin and beyond. His father did his best to keep his shop organized but over the years it had taken on a lived-in look, like a faded pair of dungarees that has been patched one too many times. Clusters of gently used books are arranged on dusty shelves, along with a few brand-new ones at the front. New books were becoming harder and harder to find, which his father was wont to complain to him every day. Contemporary records in German, Hebrew and Yiddish were filed haphazardly in bins at the back corner of the shop, next to his grandfather’s ancient cash register.
A shortwave radio sat on a high shelf at the back of the store. It’s his father’s pride and joy and is always tuned to the latest news reports from Germany and Britain. He heard the announcer proudly say, “Next summer’s Olympic Games in Berlin will be opened by none other than our Führer Adolf Hitler and will feature some brand-new sports for the first time in modern Olympic history, including coxless pair rowing, which I am told is one of the most challenging of the rowing sports…”
Distracted by the shop’s front bell he looked up to see a dark-haired boy a few years older than himself, in ill-fitting clothes with his bicycle propped against the window, open the door to the shop. “May I help you?” he asked shyly.
“Guten Tag, I am looking for a recording for my mother,” inquired the dark-haired boy. “Mutter tells me it is called Die Welt ist Klein Geworden.”
“This way, I think some new ones came in yesterday,” he replied. He perused the small stack of records in the back corner of the shop. “Ah yes, here it is The World has Become Small,” handing the heavy record over to the boy.
“Danke,” the dark-haired boy said, looking at the kippah sitting on top of Jacob’s head. “You go to synagogue?”
“Yes, my father and I attend on Shabbat. Do you go?”
“Nein, Mutter says that God has deserted us all,” laughed the dark-haired boy.
Uncertain, he said, “I see.”
The dark-haired boy put out his hand. “Look, my name is Lukas.”
“Pleased to meet you, I’m Jacob, although Papa calls me Kiva,” shaking the dark-haired boy’s offered hand. “He tells me that I am named after a famous shepherd who could not read. One day, this shepherd came across a stone that had been holed out by a constant drip of water and eventually he became the greatest sage of his generation.”
As Lukas paid for the record he said, “Oh, that is interesting. Do you like studies, then?”
“Not really, I much prefer working in Papa’s shop and meeting people,” Jacob replied as he placed the marks into the drawer of the cash register.
“I like athletics better, myself,” Lukas said as he turned to go.
Jacob followed him to the front door of the shop. “Perhaps I will see you again?”
“Ja, Mutter sings sometimes at Kaftan and she is always looking for new songs to try out.”
From the shop’s front window, Jacob watched Lukas climb onto his bicycle and slip down the busy shopping street. Reluctantly he returned to the back of the shop to tidy up the records, as Papa had asked him to do.