Michael Nabors - "Kristallnacht" "We are gathered here today to celebrate the wedding of Abraham and Rebecca," said Rabbi Elijah. My name is Noah and I am fourteen. My father owns and works at a bank. I live in Nurnberg, but today I’m at Stuttgart. My Uncle Abraham with his soon to be wife, Rebecca, have said their wedding vows. Meanwhile, my best friend, Randolph, who I had grown up with was sitting quietly next to me. Randolph was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes. I, on the other hand am short, with brown hair and brown eyes "Let’s go dance Randolph!" I said "Uh, Randolph?" While the rest of my relatives were dancing, Randolph sat in the corner of the room. He’s been avoiding me lately, too. Either because of long community projects his father made him do or because he was relocated to a new school. When I walked over, he asked me questions, like what I think of the government and if someone, maybe him would do something wrong I would still forgive them if they were forced to do it. I did not understand him, but he was upset, so I left him alone. "It’s so hot in here!" said my Grandpa Daniel. He’s right, the entire synagogue is warm. Just then I felt something burn my hand, it was a little, red, amber. Randolph, who, at this point was red in the face, stepped out for some air. At the same time, Rebecca screamed! "Everyone out! The roof’s on fire!" yelled Grandpa Daniel. Outside, I saw a man in a black uniform. I ran over to him, but he hit me in the face warning me to stay away. In the distance we could see smoke, which was coming from the remains of our business. Later, at the synagogue we could see boys in brown uniforms throwing rocks at the windows. They, too were accompanied by a man in a black uniform. In the crowd was my friend, Randolph. I tried to leave, but, the man in the black suit made me stay in a line. Then, I noticed that men and boys had an armband with a symbol that displayed four "L’s" joined in the middle, I remembered seeing that mark somewhere else. "Don’t tell him your real age Noah" said my mother. When the man walked over to me he asked my age. I told him I was nine. Since I was short for a fourteen year old; he walked by me without further question. Within twenty minutes they had gathered all the men from town that I recognized from the synagogue. "Jews, march to the field!" The officer called out. As they were walking, my father attempted to break out but was pushed down and beaten by two of the soldiers with the butt of their guns. I could not stand it. I pushed through the soldiers; I didn’t care what would happen or if I lived or died. As I reached for my father, two soldiers grabbed my arms and hit me on the back of the head with their guns. I collapsed to the ground, bleeding. As my mother watched the men being loaded into trucks, a sick feeling told me that this was the beginning of the end. |