Write Again . . . It was the wall of shame

Published 7:07 pm Monday, November 10, 2014

The news media acknowledged on Nov. 9 the 25th anniversary of a truly historic event.

It marked the anniversary of the end of a dark, sad, oppressive chapter in European history. The wall “came down.” The Berlin Wall.

Actually, the border was opened. It took several more years before the wall was actually removed in its (almost) entirety.

Did you know that it was Aug. 13, 1961, when the first sections were erected? Initially barbed wire was the principal barrier. On Aug. 23, a further five border crossings in Berlin were closed. Of course, the focal point of the closing was the Brandenburg Gate.

“Checkpoint Charlie” became a part of our vocabulary. Remember? The actual wall came into being over the next several years. It really wasn’t a wall on the day the borders were sealed.

Then, additional walls and barriers were constructed, behind the initial wall, over the next almost three decades.

There were many, many escape attempts over the years. Many were successful. Many were not.

In August of ’61 a 24-year-old man was shot and killed by a border guard at the Humboldt-Hafen point. He was the first to die trying to flee.

You may remember the youth who was shot in the no-mans land, and neither side was bold enough to send rescue, or re-capture agents. He bled to death as he called, then whimpered, for help.

On Feb. 5, 1989, 20-year-old Chris Gueffroy was shot and killed attempting to escape. He was the last victim of the Wall.

As my generation passes on, the Berlin Wall will increasingly be remembered only through the gathering mists of memory.

And then all those who lived during those times will be gone. It is, simply, the law of nature and the will of God.

The Berlin Wall will be relegated to just a few lines in some history books. If we even have books then.

Why my keen interest in this topic, you may ask. Well, I am a history buff, for sure.

Also, only a couple of weeks after the closing of the border in those August days in ’61, I was in Berlin. A 22-year-old soldier. I have a photo taken of me standing in the front of the Brandenburg Gate, at perhaps a distance of 50 yards or so. You can see the barbed wire.

The Berlin Wall.

The Wall of Shame.