I Will Never Forget You, Kristallnacht
I Will Never Forget You, Kristallnacht Elijah and I ran swiftly through the alleys of the city, being careful as so not to be discovered by the Gestapo or anyone else. The night was unusually warm for November, so it made our job easier as we snaked our way through the maze of dark passages in the night. My parents sent my brother and me on a special mission tonight, a mission that was frightening as it was equally exciting. The mission came about when Rose, one of my mother’s closest friends, informed my mother that all the synagogues in town were being burned! Our mother knew Rose could be trusted, but the thought of her beysakneses, her synagogue, being burned was so unbelievable she needed information from an eyewitness account. Because of this disbelief, our mother gave us a mission to seek the truth out by interrogation or come back with the news of what we saw. I myself, however, yearned for the truth awaiting Elijah and me, and it drilled a well of hope within me that fueled my everlasting desire. As we approached our destination, our local synagogue that our family went to every Saturday, Elijah and I soon realized that you didn’t need an eyewitness account to know the truth; the smell simply gave it away! The smell of smoke lingered in the air as my brother and I slowly poked our heads out from behind the wall. What we saw was simply disgusting, a synagogue was burning, but no one was putting out the fire! Some of the people watching threw stones at the windows while they shouted something viciously in German that I couldn’t understand. Then, one of the Gestapo turned their heads to look our way, and I realized when he started yelling and running our direction that he had seen us! My brother saw them start running too, so he immediately broke into a run alongside me, never slowing down. Right before the Gestapo turned the corner and saw us running, Elijah took me by the shoulders, roughly shoved me into a crevice in the wall, and whispered in my ear, "Hide here, Hannah!" I followed his orders, shoving myself deep into the gap as the Gestapo ran by without discovering my hiding place. The Gestapo’s eyes were only for my brother Elijah. The Gestapo’s bellowed orders and the sound of feet hitting the ground rapidly was all I could hear for the next ten seconds. Then, a new clear sound rang out in the night, a dangerous, deadly sound, the sound of a gunshot. After that, all the running and shouting stopped; the only sound left was a cry of pain and a small thud as someone fell to the ground. My well of hope dried up in that instant because I knew who that cry of pain belonged to, it belonged to my brother, my friend, my savior, the one person I lived for, my Elijah. I waited until the Gestapo’s heavy footsteps passed my hiding place, marched around the very corner they came from, and completely disappeared into the dark night. It was minutes after the footsteps were gone when I crept out of my hiding place to look for where they had shot Elijah. I stumbled around the uneven ground searching for him while whispering as loud as I could, "Elijah? Elijah, where are you? Please answer me Elijah! Please!" A hoarse cry sounded directly below me, I was standing over his half-alive body! Kneeling down beside him, I cradled his head in my hands and sobbed while singing a Jewish lullaby into his ear that my father had taught me. Then, startling me, Elijah looked at me and, in a hoarse voice, croaked, "I love you, Hannah. I love you and I always will." I murmured, "I love you too," for there was nothing else I could do while I felt him slip away in my hands. Only the sharp, stinging pain of the memory brought me back to the present, where I was chatting and cleaning up my small house with my granddaughter. I sighed wishing as I had for all these years that Elijah could be with me, to see my daughter, my grandchildren, and lastly, my sister, who was born a year after he died. I dusted the photo frame that surrounded Elijah’s beautiful face, barely listening while my granddaughter complains about her brother. A clever idea came to me as I was listening to her whine endlessly about the things her "stupid" brother did. I raised my voice over the volume of her whining and complaining and said, "You know Hannah, I had a brother once. I lost him to a terrible event called ‘Kristallnacht’, also known as ‘Night of Broken Glass’. Let me tell you his story. His name was Elijah…" Bibliography "Kristallnacht: The 1938 Pogroms." The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. http://www.ushmm.org/museum/exhibit/online/kristallnacht/frame.htm. 16 Dec. 2008. "Kristallnacht." The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. http://www.ushmm.org/museum/exhibit/focus/kristallancht. 16 Dec. 2008. "Kristallnacht Photo Gallery." The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/media_ph.php?lang=en&ModuleId=10005201&MediaId=6382. 16 Dec. 2008. "Kristallnacht Survivor Testimony." The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/media_oi.php?lang=en&ModuleId=10005201&MediaId=1158. 16 Dec. 2008. "Do Not Stand Silent: Remembering Kristallnacht 1938." The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. http://www.ushmm.org/rememberance/dor/years/detail.php?content=2008. 16 Dec. 2008. |