The October Book Report

October was a surprisingly good reading month for me. Or maybe not all that surprising. About a week of that was spent up north with a foot that prevented a lot of things I would have otherwise done, so there was more time for reading. That continued, even when I got home.

 

The results? Three very different memoirs, four mysteries and another holiday selection, this time essays.  

Marching Through Books: Real People

What draws you to a certain book at a certain time? Maybe it is your favorite genre, a new entry by a beloved author or events swirling around you. This month's books weren't picked because they were about "real people," but that's how it ended up. Our March offerings take us from Amsterdam to Paris, Michigan to Japan, and to the war rooms and stages of England.

Our Anne Frank Moment

How are you enjoying "life inside"? Are you coping with shortages of toilet paper, cleaning products or your favorite food? Have you managed to find your own space within your home to do work, educate your children or just get away for a bit? Have you had more than a few temper flare-ups, sibling rivalries or tearful moments? Have you been imagining days past, remembering (or anticipating) lovely vacations somewhere far away from home?

Anne Frank House in Amsterdam is the building to the right of the one with the pointed roof.

Are you or someone in your family journaling your experiences, either online or on paper?

Anne Frank's Diary

At times like this, it's useful to remember that we weren't the first who had to go into "hiding." And by comparison, we have it pretty good.

A dear friend who long ago directed me in "Diary of Anne Frank" sent this wonderful Life special edition that is currently on news stands about the young woman whose diary influenced generations beyond her.

In 2009, when Rick and I first went to Europe, we were fortunate to be able to tour the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam. It left an indelible impression, partly because I'd been inspired by her story since it was required reading in junior high and partly because how could one not be affected?

Margot, Otto, Anne and Edith Frank, shortly before going into hiding.

The story of Anne Frank and her family and fellow hiding residents is instructive in these days of social distance for many of us. It certainly resonates for me. Apart from Rick, I really am not seeing people. Unless I'm taking a walk or in my yard, I am inside. (I should also add that this isn't much of a hardship for me and not that much unlike my life before quarantine.) Last night we had our first Zoom Virtual Happy Hour. It felt good to "see" other people, even though most of our conversation was about CV19.

But when I think back to the Anne Frank House, I remember the differences they faced. First of all, there were eight people in a very few rooms. No one, apart from young Peter, had their own private space. Each sleeping space was shared by at least one other person.

A re-creation of the room Anne shared with the dentist, known in the book as Mr. Dussell.

While I know many families may be in small homes or apartments, there are also many of us who are isolated are in a home where we will have our own spot to go if we need to be alone. We are used to adjustable heat or if it's hot, air conditioning. They couldn't open a window, no matter how hot it was. And the heat was not adequate in the cold Netherlands winter.

A model of the Anne Frank House -- warehouse on the left, upper floors on the right were where Anne and her family hid.

And of course, they couldn't go for a walk or a bicycle ride, our out to rake leaves and get the garden ready for spring. Anne's closest look to the outside was a window in the attic of the building in which they were hidden.

This was Anne's only window to the world.

They had little food. Moments in the diary recall their having only a few potatoes to share amongst the eight of them. Bread could be scarce, as could meat. In a rare moment of festivities, Miep, their caretaker, saved ration cards to make them a very small cake. What would they think of supermarket wars over a package of toilet paper?

Their entertainment was restricted to books and puzzles. For one Hanukkah gift, Anne erased the answers from her sister's crossword puzzle book so she could do them again. What would they think of cable, 24 hour streaming, books online or on tablets?

The entry to Anne's hiding place was behind this book case on the upper floors of an office building.

Communication? They relied on an unpredictable wireless but by and large their window to the world was wrapped up in the visits of the people who put their lives on the line to bring them food or updates on the war. There was no 24-hour news cycle or online newspapers.

They had to be absolutely still during the hours workers were in the building, below them. They couldn't use the bathroom and even a cough could bring the Gestapo.

The consequences of "breaking the rules" for Anne and her family? A brutal death, if not instantly, then through the excruciating brutality of the concentration camps, in which all but her father died.

Anne's room; the faded photos she collected of film stars remain.

I hope this is as close to an Anne Frank moment as we will ever get. They were targets to something known -- discovery by the Nazis. We are targets to something about which we know but that cannot be seen, the virus. In its own way it is as dangerous. As a simple cough could lead to Anne's death, that same simple cough could lead to ours. The virus can, it has and it will continue to kill thousands of people in the next weeks. It does not discriminate, as the Nazis did. Good men, women and children are dying and so are the bad, regardless of age, race, gender or ethnicity.

And like Anne's family, there are the helpers. Those who are staffing the medical units, the grocery store and warehouse workers, truck drivers, pharmacists, journalists, restaurant delivery/take-out providers, utilities workers who are working on the infrastructure. There are the volunteers at food banks and those who brave the grocery store to get food for their family, neighbors and friends. Scientists are in their labs, working hard to create vaccines. Last night a friend picked up their groceries at curbside from one of the large Meijer stores here. The young woman who did their shopping -- who put her life on the line so they could have food -- was working without gloves, masks or wipes provided by the store. They gave her the half-bottle of hand sanitizer they had in their car. She cried.

People like this -- who go on the front lines for us -- represent the best of us.

Mr. Frank's office colleagues provided food and shelter to the Franks and their friends for more than two years.

But we can be our best too. We can protect ourselves and others by staying home. Washing hands. Sterilizing our spaces. We can watch movies on Netflix, read books, engage in video games, blogging, Zoom chats with family and friends.  The kids can keep up with lessons online and if they're antsy can get out for a walk or play in the yard.

We probably have enough food to eat. Granted, it may not be exactly the food we want that night, we might be missing an ingredient to make a favorite dish. But we can eat. (At least, many of us can. There is a significant portion of the population that relies on food banks, which are running out of food.)

But that is "some of us." For others, challenges will multiply. Because of the massive unemployment, until some form of stimulus arrives, there will be many hungry families. Rents will be due with no money to pay. Crime will probably rise in many areas because of financial desperation. We have a global society that will be experiencing unprecedented collective grief as friends and loved ones die.

We all know that isolation can be challenging. We know that people are dying, and within a month or so, at least one person we know directly or one degree removed will either contract the virus or die. We are anxious. We may have bad dreams that wake us. (Well, I am, anyway.)

We have limited tools with which we can fight. Soap. Hand sanitizer. Our own ability to keep a safe distance. Staying home.

Anne could hear the bells from this nearby church.

But we also have better tools to cope with it than ever before. Things that can help staying home easier than ever before. And if we stay home now, then one day we can be out again amongst many people, traveling the world if we wish.

Amsterdam. No hiding. No spatial distance required.

This is our Anne Frank moment. Please Stay Home. And Stay Well.

In Spite of Everything...

When Rick and I went to Europe several years ago, it rained. It rained almost every day. Not all day, always. But pretty much every day. But we went about our lives visiting all the places you always go on your first or second trip -- the monuments, the public parks and gardens, the churches, the things you see in books and movies. The things that are now considered terror targets. It just kept raining and we just kept going, frizzy hair and all.

The first time I visited London, with my mom in 1973, the IRA was in full explosive force. It seemed as though every time we were at a site, the next day a mailbox or trash can in that area exploded. We were a little nervous but was it going to stop us? No.

In Paris, we ate at cafes, in London, a pub. When Rick and I visited London in 2012, we walked all over (in the more-or-less rain). We walked over Westminster Bridge, taking photos of the houses of Parliament, eyeing the London Eye and looking down the Thames.

Little did we know that had we been in that same spot several years later, we might have been killed or injured by someone driving a car with an intent to kill. Terror. Terror done by one person.

We walked through London's beautiful parks, lush and brilliant green with all the rain.

They were filled with birds, wildlife, flowers all starting new life in the early spring. A peaceable kingdom.

We watched the Changing of the Guard -- a lucky accident, really, to end up by Buckingham Palace at just the right time.

The police on guard were nice, friendly. They appeared to carry no guns. They answered questions and gently pushed the crowd back when things got a bit dense.

We never thought that someone might consider driving through a crowd, jump from a van and stab tourists and residents alike.

It never dawned on us while we were in London that the police might ask us to evacuate our hotel as fast as possible.

My heart is aching for England this week and for those who have faced terror in other parts of Europe and the world. I have blog friends who live in the UK and my heart has been with you during the attacks in London and Manchester. I admire your strength and resolve, your courage and your determination.

I admire your police force who took down the three terrorists this past weekend in eight minutes.

I wonder, what would Queen Victoria think?

She would be proud of its police force, that is for certain.

The U.S. is not without its terror concerns. A week ago, a domestic terrorist with White Nationalist and racist overtones, murdered two in Portland, Oregon. This is far from the first such event. In 1927, only miles away from my home, the Bath, Michigan, school board treasurer, angered by his defeat in a recent election and increased taxes, was a suicide bomber. He first blew up the school killing 39 children, six adults and injuring another 58 people, then blowing himself up in his truck. It remains the deadliest mass murder at a school in the United States history. My dad took this photo in the aftermath.

I don't believe curbing immigration or profiling is the answer. It wouldn't have changed Bath. It wouldn't have changed Oklahoma City or Portland and it wouldn't have changed Manchester. It is probably far more likely that the terrorist next door has been born and bred in the country in which he or she inflicts terror. Hate is available 24/7 on the Internet, in many leaders, even in the radical interpretation of some religions.

I don't have answers. But I do believe there are some.

As for me, I like to remember the words of one young girl who saw terror that was unspeakable, terror that destroyed lives and brought the world into a war. Her story is a cautionary tale for all the countries who are looking at one religion, at one group of people as being evil, building walls to keep them out. The actions of today are all too similar of those of the 1930s. Hate-filled rhetoric, legislatures that will not stand up to power. But Anne Frank never lost hope.

"It’s difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart."

So do I.

Anne Frank and the Anne Frank House

Back when I was doing my posts on our trip to Paris, the Netherlands and London, there were several people who asked why I didn't post about the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam -- especially since I mentioned it was on my "must do" list.

There are three reasons for that. First, those Europe posts, while fun for me, were getting awfully long. And, I wasn't quite sure how to make it fit with the others, since no photos were allowed in the Anne Frank House. It would take some prepping.

But most of all, I found it moving in a way that was difficult to process and I just wasn't sure how to go about it.

But time, of course, puts things into perspective, so back to Holland we go.

 

Rick and I were more fortunate than we knew to make reservations for the Anne Frank House so close to the time we would visit (Two days before--and there were precious few times from which to choose). This may be one of the biggest attractions in Amsterdam and because of the size and cramped quarters, only a certain number of people are admitted at a time. The lines can be quite long. (If your travel plans are quite certain, you can make reservations well in advance online.)

 

The house is located on one of Amsterdam's many canals. In the photo above, you can see it next to the house with the "step" roof. Below is a closer view.

It is an easy walk from the Centraal Station, about 20 minutes, and also near a tram stop.

After you enter, one is reminded that the "House" was actually the business establishment of Otto Frank and the first spots you see are the offices from the company. There are a couple of diaramas showing how things were laid out and some memorabilia.

The really emotional stuff begins when you go behind the bookcase that bloked the narrow stairway up to the rooms where the Frank and Van Pels families stayed, along with their dentist friend, Fritz Pfeffer (Mr. Dussel).

There is no furniture. If you see postcards otherwise (and there are some) they have been staged for the guide book. So, in a way, one doesn't get the sense of how cramped it would be -- except for the fact that in your group there are more than eight people walking around -- and there isn't a lot of room to walk.

The only room that is somewhat decorated is Anne's -- the movie star photos she collected are posted on the wall, much in the way one would thing she had done as a young girl.

To me, one of the most moving spots was the attic where Anne and Peter would sit and talk, fall in love, and look at a piece of sky. The house is very near the Westertoren church where they would listen to the bells.

It surprised me -- and it shouldn't have -- that the house is across the street from one of the many canals that snake through Amsterdam. I don't remember mention of this in the diary, but it has been a long time.

And, just down the block is the Westertoren.

You can see how close it is to the gift shop (the glassed building attached to the house in the photo below)

After one leaves the living quarters, you visit a museum of sorts. There are video monitors with interviews of those who had known Anne, including Miep Gies, one of those who helped keep them safe for so long.. Some of these stories are very sad indeed.

The original diary is not present but other diaries are mocked up to look the same and one can see pages of writing by Anne and many photographs.

You can also see the SS Records after the group was arrested. There are also many photos from the Frank's personal collection and information on how each of those who died perished.

When one leaves the archival part of the house, there is yet another area -- one that brings the issues presented in the book and on the tour to real and contemporary life. Videos present questions and ask how you would handle. People can vote individually and sometimes the results are a bit disarming.

 

I think the museum does a disservice to itself in not recreating the space more authentically. A bunch of empty rooms don't do it for the uninitiated. But the displays are excellent and I'd put it at the top of the list for anyone, particularly one who knows and cares about Anne Frank's story, to visit.

 

I was extremely moved by the Anne Frank House. Maybe it was reading the book so often, or so many books about her family and their protectors over time. Maybe it was having worked on or in three productions of the play and seeing the movie any number of times. Rick was less so.

"Why Anne Frank?" he asked, when so many died. How did her hiding place become the big tourist attraction that it is?

 

It's a tough question -- and a good one. Clearly there were many who died or who were brave in their resistance to the Nazis.

But the way I see it is that here was one girl -- one of the innocents, like so many innocent children. She lived in the hardest of worlds, in conditions no one should experience, for reasons which are unspeakably deplorable.

 

She wasn't the only one by any means. But she was the one with a voice, the one who despite everything still believed that people were really good at heart.