GERMANY: A RECEPTION, NEW (OLD) COUSINS, AND A STOLPERSTEIN CEREMONY

May 23, 2025

One of the few buildings that was restored after the February 25, 1945, bombing was the Old Town Hall. It was originally built in 1911-1912 in the Art Nouveau style but was burned out in the air raid. It was repaired and expanded in 1999-2001. A plaque on the wall states, "As a lasting reminder, the Old Town Hall commemorates the destruction of old Pforzheim." 

This is the building where there was a reception for the Stolpersteine families that we--and the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of our grandfather and his first wife--had been been invited to attend. We had known our grandfather was married before he was married to our grandmother, but we knew nothing of his life with the first wife or if there were living descendants. Alex, our incredible researcher, found their names, and my brother Dave used Facebook to track them down. They too were invited to the Stolpersteine events.

It turns out there were three children of that earlier marriage, two of whom survived to adulthood, and one of whom married and had two children (born in 1948 and 1951) who would also be grandchildren of our grandfather. We met the widow of the oldest son (who died in 1981) and the second son himself, who is still living and is our half-first cousin. Between them, those two children had five children. We met three of those children, who are our half first-cousins once removed. One of them brought her 11-year-old daughter, our half first-cousin twice removed.

We got there a little early, nervously checking out every small group of people who came in. We had not seen photos of any of the relatives, and as far as we could tell, each person that entered could have been a cousin. When you don't know what you are looking for, you see similarities in every smile, every nose, every setting of the eyes.

While we waited, I admired this powerful metal relief that portrays Pforzheim's streets and buildings in the Cubist style.

GERMANY: PFORZHEIM CEMETERY, DOWNTOWN, ENZ RIVER, WALLBERG

 May 23, 2025

When we got up in the morning, we knew we had a big day ahead that involved meeting cousins we didn't know we had because our mother chose to keep their existence a secret from us, if she even knew about them (and we are pretty sure she did). The day would also include a visit to the Pforzheim cemeetery, a trip to one of the archives that our researcher used to uncover some of the information that had been in hiding for 85 years, a visit to the street where our mother and her family lived until 1945, the installation of a Stolperstein in our grandfather's honor, and more.

But since parking is an issue in Pforzheim, and since the cemetery had a big parking lot, that is where we began. We could park our two vans there and walk to our other destinations during the day, then pick up the vans at the end of the day.

A map of the cemetery at the entrance had this information: "Pforzheim's main cemetery is considered one of the most beautiful park cemeteries in southern Germany. Eighty percent of its total area of approximately 33.4 hectares (82.5 acres) is protected as a historical monument. These areas are characterized by stately tree stands and . . . garden design from the imperial era. From 1877 to 1945, the basic strcture of long avenues and numerous neatly trimmed hedges, which still characterize the cemetery today, gradually emerged.The historical fabric is still largely intact."

I love cemeteries, which I've said many times in this blog. Every grave and monument represents a life and a story, and that seems especially apparent in a cemetery as beautiful as the one in Pforzheim. If I understand correctly, plots are leased for a specific period, usually 20 to 30 years, rather than purchased outright. If the lease is not renewed, the remains are moved or cremated and the site is "recycled" for another burial. Beautiful, well-maintained gravesites are a staple of German culture. Visiting the cemetery is almost like strolling through a botanical garden. Each grave is distinct from the others around it and artfully decorated as if it is a separate room. Take a look at these examples:

GERMANY: AN OLD POST, A NEW FRIEND, AND MANY LITTLE MIRACLES

 May 2025

And now I come to the part of the story of this trip to Germany that is nothing short of a miracle.

The very beginning of the story (if there is such a thing as a beginning of any story) was 85 years ago near a castle on the top of a rather remote hill in Southern Germany, but my part of it began just 25 years ago in December 2000 when Bob and I took our two sons, ages 15 and 12, to Europe with two objectives in mind: pick up our daughter from her study abroad program in France and spend time with my mother in Germany. 

Mom, our daughter, our sons, and I in the
Pforzheim cemetery, December 2000

My mother grew up in Pforzheim, a city that was bombed on February 23, 1945, killing 17,600 people, which was over 30% of the town's population. We met up with her in her hometown, spent the day seeing places that had been important to her, and then moved on to other cities in Southern Germany. 

GERMANY 2000: PFORZHEIM

December 16, 2000

The first year I took travel pictures with a digital camera was 2009. We had some great trips before that, and I documented them by creating traditional scrapbooks. I have decided to try to digitize those memories by scanning the photos and writing up the trips here. This is my first attempt. While I have already written about much of what is in this first post, I include an expanded version here as the first part of our trip in 2000.

Our daughter, a French major at Brigham Young University at the time, completed a study abroad semester in Paris in Fall 2000. We decided that we and her two younger brothers would meet her in Europe in December and spend some time touring around France together. My mother, a German immigrant who traveled to Germany quite often, suggested that we tack on a trip to Germany with her as our guide, something I had always wanted to do. The trip was set. My husband and I had traveled to Great Britain the previous year, but this was our first trip to mainland Europe.

We flew into Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris where we met our daughter (who looked tres chic in her black leather coat, black pants, black boots, and a red French scarf) and picked up a rental van. We drove about 350 miles from Paris to the German city of Pforzheim, which is about 20 miles over the border, where we met up with my mother. We did make one stop at Verdun after making our way out of Paris, a stop memorable not for the sites that we saw but for the loaf of French bread and cheese that we bought at a convenience store. It was the first time we had tasted Boursin cheese, and we were wowed. We knew that our belts were in for some serious stretching on this trip.

It felt almost surreal to cross the border from France into Germany, and later into Austria, then back into Germany before ending up in France again. My husband had been in Europe as a pre-teen and remembers difficulty crossing the borders, and we had had our own experiences crossing the U.S./Mexico border that involved long waits.  We just breezed past the old border-crossing station near the Rhine river and Baden-Baden on our way into Germany, although we did get a little lost at that point as we struggled with the change in signage.