My grandfather, grandmother and my mother in 1939. My grandfather was an SS soldier. Part of the elite military force in Germany at the time. He was put onto desk duty after he incurred many seizures from his brain tumor. This is my grandparents wedding announcement along side some Forget-Me-Nots from the garden.

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The family house was built in 1941. This is the neighbors house but ours in exactly the same. Except for ours in hidden in a myriad of trees and bushes. Only the very tip of the roof is visible from the street. 

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My mother standing in the field next to the route that was the road the Germans walked during the mass expulsion from Poland, after World War II. That land had been a part of German territory since the middle of the 1700s.

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My mother's first memory was red cherry pit stains in a green rug in the house, where the Russian soldiers had spit them out during the invasion of Berlin, at the end of World War II. My grandparents had planted this tree when they landscaped the house in 1939.

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My great grandparents had bought my grandparents this bedroom suite for their wedding present, 1939.

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Apples from the garden's apple trees planted by my grandparents. Somehow a sense of sinister in the house is never completely gone.


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Wedding photo of my grandparents, with blossoms from the apple tree they planted. My mother often commented how the color of the paint on the floor looked like blood. This jug is from the family farm which was part of former Germany. 

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The field next to the route that was the road the Germans walked during the mass expulsion from Poland, after World War II. My family had a large family farm on this land of many generations. It was lost after the War. And given to a polish family.

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ID photos from my mother during the erection of the Berlin Wall in the late 1950s. The larger image is my mother looking on from West Berlin when she became a political refugee from East Berlin. Notice the barb wire. 

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Looking into the room that my grandmother told my 4 year old mother that she was gong to kill her first and then herself with the pistol she had. As Russia was entering Berlin, Hitler told the citizens the honorable thing was to commit suicide as they did not want to end up in the hands of the enemy. 

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After the war, their was nothing to burn for warmth and very little to eat. My mother had few toys. She did have this illustrated fairy tale book. For hours she would look at the images over and over again. This was her favorite.

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The apples form the original apple trees planted in 1939. I have many memories of my grandmother eating two every night before she went to bed. And me pulling one off the tree as I was playing. 

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White currants planted by my grandmother before World War II. Often she made jam from them. 

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Old electrical light switches and wallpaper from East Berlin. They were poorly and cheaply made. 

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My grandparents would make a schnapps from the apples, currents or strawberry from the garden and put them in used liquor bottles to serve when the time was right. 

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The apple trees in blossom, looking out the upstairs hallway window.

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My mother's hands from berries that are used to make jelly. My mother continues to carry on the traditions of living close to the land. 

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The view from the kitchen window. 

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My mother standing in the spot where her father was buried. She spent many a day and hour there as her father died in 1943 of a brain tumor. One day his grave stone was removed and the area was leveled. It became the site of the Berlin Wall. It was 2 and a half blocks from the house. Often, when she was a little girl, she would spend many hours sitting next to his grave.

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My grandparents planted several hazelnut trees. Which are harvested in the autumn. The photos shows my grandmother and mother in 1940. The cross is from my great grandmother.

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Momma looking out into the garden at twilight, in the room that my grandmother threatened to kill her. My mother screamed and ran around, finally to convince my grandmother to let them live.

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Old family heirlooms in the kitchen that have been used by 4 generations of my family.

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In the room, next to the basement bomb shelter. Old wicker baskets and jugs from the old family farm.

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My great grandmother knitting with a paper hat.

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The original wallpaper from the house. This room had served as a living room for many years, but is where I sleep when I visit.

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Momma walking her dog in the field next to the house. This walk way leads to what was the wall. Finally, we are all free to roam wherever we wish.

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