Platz des 9. November 1989

Platz des 9. November 1989

Bösebrücke, on Bonholmerstrasße, was the bridge that served as a border crossing between East and West Berlin during the Cold War. Situated outside the central district of Berlin, it crosses only railroad tracks rather than water, and is one of the last places you can still see the Berlin Wall in its original form. The crossing facilitated a passage from the Soviet into the French occupation sector and was the first place where the wall was opened on 9 November 1989. After the premature announcement from the East German government that private travel would be allowed to the West, people began to clamor at Bösebrücke to make their first foray into West Berlin. At 9:20 PM, to relieve the pressure of people crowding the gate seeking exit from East Berlin, a few people were allowed to cross into West Berlin. Their passports were stamped invalid. Three hours later, the East German border guards reported that 20,000 people had crossed the border. 

Barbed wire still attached to the wall

It has been nearly thirty years since the fall of the Berlin Wall. I watch a group of school kids participating in a school exercise, taking notes listening to a woman, about my age, discussing the events that led to the fall of the Berlin Wall and the subsequent collapse of East Germany. The kids were unimpressed, teasing each other just out of the sight of the teacher, giving each other piggyback rides, and generally more interested in the traffic that transited the bridge than in the remains of the wall. The fall of the Berlin Wall was a seminal event in my life, both personally and academically; yet for these kids it is ancient history. When I was about their age, the Second World War had been over for about thirty years. The end of World War II, the death of Hitler and the dropping of atomic bombs on Japan, seemed far removed from my life. It still does. It is only natural for these students to have the same feeling.

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Best coffee?

I stopped for a restroom break in a New Jersey gas station that caters to long haul truck drivers, where in addition to restrooms, showers are also available by the half hour. Filling a giant cup of coffee, a rather large braggart, wearing a New York Yankees baseball cap, boldly proclaimed, "This coffee is better than getting married again." When a cashier scoffed, he retorted, although he was seemingly Incapable of the feat, "I'd climb Mt. Everest for this."

Observing Wildlife

During the middle of rush hour traffic on a Friday afternoon, I stood waiting to cross the street at 40th and Ninth Avenue in Manhattan. A cacophony of horns blared as tempers flared; buses and automobiles were trapped in an intractable tangle, suggestive that no one was getting home early. Pedestrians stood transfixed by their phones, taking furtive glances to secure safe passage. Above the intersection, sitting on a traffic light standard, sat three pigeons looking down at the humans in their natural habitat. Each new horn blast brought renewed attention to the traffic by the three. I imagined one saying to another, “What is she doing?” to which the reply was, “Why didn’t you remember your binoculars?”

Key City Diner

It was a rainy day in western New Jersey. I stopped for lunch in Phillipsburg, an area of the state where it seems obligatory to have at least three diners per town. I parked and scuttled between raindrops into the Key City Diner, opened in 1955, noticing a large hearse parked a few spots away. I was seated in a booth in an extension to the original train car design. As I perused the menu, a table of three men, dressed in suits, were conversing with a man and his wife. From the tone and topics of the conversation, it was easy to deduce that there were all long-term locals to the area. The two engaged in the most conversation was the oldest of the three men and the husband at the next table. They sat with their backs to one another, glancing over their right shoulder as they spoke, telling stories as they finished their lunch.

One of the conversations that drew a lot of comment was the location, in Phillipsburg, of the best place to get hot dogs. The husband said he liked Jimmy’s. To which the youngest of the three men said, “I went once to pick up dogs for him (pointing at the older man) …. I’ll never go again. I needed a shower after I left it was so dirty.”

I soon realized that the hearse belonged to the three men in suits, who had just finished a funeral. They had reminiscences to entertain the locals in the diner. Someone brought up a different mortician whose name I did not catch, who was still living, somewhere near ninety-years old. The younger man said that he had worked for him early in his career and everyday he “put his lunch in the freezer with the bodies.”

After the couple left, two older women came in for a late lunch. One of the women, who did not look well, took the vacant seat at the table with the three morticians. She confessed that there was a cemetery in town that, when she visited, she always said, “Merry Christmas. I miss you all so much.” The younger man said for her not to worry, he did the same thing all the time.

Week 2

Coco: 9-weeks old

Pip: 9-weeks old 

Lucie: 9-weeks old

One Week: Crisis and Settlement

It has been an eventful first week: Lucie stopped eating which prompted a visit to the vet less than forty-eight hours after the clowder's arrival. By the end of the week, everyone was feeling better and kittens were settling end. By the end of week, it felt as if the kittens were long-term members of the family.

Discovering the joys of under the bed

Pip is a smart kitten

Lucie using her sister as a mattress 

Coco uses the top of the crate as a bed

a look of determination from Pip

The Arrival

First Official Portrait 

It was a cloudy and cold day. For kittens who have never left the house, the walk to the car was a shock. An hour drive to their new home was an experience. Not a peep from the backseat was heard.

The door is open to a new home

Pip: excited or yawning? 

Lucie and Coco