Amsterdam, Holland: Young Anne Frank and her family spent more than 24 months in a secret annex of an apartment building in Amsterdam, hiding from the Nazis. A German-Jewish family, the Frank’s faced certain deportation if discovered, but remained undetected for two years, with the help of several friends. The diary that Anne kept has become one of the most widely read books, providing readers with a unique view of the Holocaust. The house in which the family hid has been maintained in its original condition and opened as a museum in 1960. The premises include a replica of the bookcase used to hide the entrance to the secret rooms, family pictures and mementos. The original diary is also on display. The museum was maintained by Otto Frank, the sole surviving member of the family, until his death. It is now administered by a government foundation.
I have been to the Anne Frank house twice, once before it was renovated and once after. My parents immigrated from Holland in 1956 (first to Canada, then to the U.S.), and both had lived through the war in Amsterdam as teenagers (neither are Jewish). I grew up hearing the stories of fear, endurance, pain, and hunger until our emotions would take over and we would change the subject. So it was always with great anxiety that I would visit this house because it was a living memorial that encapsulated in a slightly more tangible manner all of the stories I had heard not only from school, but more personally and particularly, from my father’s anguish.
I have not been there for many years, but I distinctly remember what felt like to me as a nervous silence that hung in the home as throngs of tourists could not bring themselves to speak. Nervous perhaps because I couldn’t bear to believe people as wonderful as my parents had lived through these horrors and there was the house telling me they had. I don’t think I need to go back to that house again because I don’t think it will bring about any more closure or dialog about the war for me.
Slaughter of the Innocents:
In the heart of Amsterdam, the Netherlands, the city of my birth is located a modern looking building colloquially known as the “Stopera.” I’ve been told that it serves basically two purposes, as City Hall (STADHUIS) and Opera Hall (OPERA), hence “Stopera” building. It was built some years ago on the spot where at one time was located the Jewish Boys’ orphanage, a building which was built in the 18th Century.
In 1943 there were about forty-five young boys being taken care of. In that year the boys and three of their caretakers who would not desert them were shipped off to a german concentration camp and murdered by the Germans. The current building has a rather wide sidewalk. Imbedded in the cement of that sidewalk are a series of plaques depicting phrases of the Old Testament. Together they form the outline of the orginal orphanage. By 1943 it was no longer a secret what happened to the Jewish people, old and young, who would be dragged out of their houses by day and night; it certainly was no secret to the German soldiers who carried out the order. Icall them Germans, not Nazis; there were relatively few Nazis at the time (members of the Nazi party). The “slaughtering of the innocents” was committed by rank and file Germans. My mind goes out not only to the orphan boys and their feelings of fear and panic but also to the bastard soldiers who allowed themselves to be lowered to the level of a child murderer.
Dr. Arnoldus J. Gruter
When I was thirteen years old I visited the Anne Frank House, while on vacation with my family. Our travels were filled with the usual restaurants, hotels, museums and tourist attractions, but then there was the Anne Frank House. My experience there was unlike any other, as I felt the house come to life for me. Being the same age that Anne was when she was in hiding was especially moving for me as a young girl. I remember walking through the rooms and imagining her life, stuck between those walls. It was an eerie feeling to look around and think of the horrors that befell victims of the holocaust, but very moving. I think it is incredibly important to have this type of memorial, because it brings to life a real event through the eyes of individuals, not too different from you and me. Almost ten years later I am still impacted by my visit, and remember the feelings I had while in the house.
I visited the Anne Frank House with my family when I was very young, probably around 8 years old. Although I cannot remember the specifics, I remember walking through each separate room of the house, and actually feeling like I could visualize what Anne Frank was going through at the time of her hiding. It was amazing to see all of the artifacts and just how good of an idea the creators of the museum had about what Anne Frank went through during the Holocaust.
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