Ruth Jackson, Eberswalde, early 1930s:

"One thing stands out in my mind. I went shopping with my mother & saw a man in front of me with a swastika burnt into his skull. It made a terrible impression on me & I asked my mother why had he done that, it seemed a bit stupid. She said he had been in a sort of prison, that he didn’t very much like the Nazis & he’d spoken against them & he was taken into a prison & they put it in there so that he would always remember that. That made a big impression on me.

In early 1933, Hitler came to Eberswalde as he toured Germany. All our windows faced the square so we saw all these people gathering, thousands of people, marching, singing, swastika flags flying, & a podium was set up for Hitler. There was a knock at the door, my father was in Berlin. My mother opened the door & I heard her arguing with a man. In the end she let him in. We were forced to put a swastika flag out of our windows, which of course my mother didn’t want to do. She hung the banner right below, as low as she could get below our window sill. I thought she would fall out. I was hanging onto her skirts. We were told that if we didn’t it would be so noticeable: Hitler would be facing our windows. We put the wooden blinds down but you could still hear him shrieking & shouting. But we couldn’t see him—or I could through the slits of the blinds.

When they all went we were able to breathe again, but my parents decided it was best to move back to Berlin. Because you are not so noticeable in a crowd as you are in a small town. In Berlin we lived near the Reichskanzlerplatz, which was duly changed to Adolf Hitler Platz.

I was 7. I made friends, the teacher seemed to like me, I got on quite well, until one day my mother was asked to come to the school. I was given a note for her. I was afraid, wondered what I had done wrong, nobody said anything, I was just asked to give her this letter. Well, the letter was for her to come to the school, which she did. She told me I wasn’t going to go back to that school because the other parents objected to their children being in a class with a Jewish child. So that was the end of that school.

The second time I had to move. Luckily enough for me, a new school was being built, a Jewish school called Theodor-Herzl-Schule, at the top of the avenue that we lived in. I had to go by tram but that was all part of the fun of it; I made lots of friends. Suddenly I didn’t have to worry about being Jewish because we were all Jewish. We couldn’t go to cinemas, swimming pools, but somehow as a child you to take it all in your stride, it didn’t seem to worry me terribly because I’d got my friends.

Then we had to move again. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. You’d find a flat & people would say ‘Are you Jewish?’ We’d say, yes, & they’d say, ‘We don’t want you’. Finally we did find a flat a bit nearer school. There were other children nearby & I was able to befriend them. You didn’t go out to play, you played in each other’s homes. Somehow we just accepted that. We weren’t welcomed in restaurants. No ice-cream parlours any more. I don’t think I looked particularly Jewish & certainly my mother wasn’t Jewish. But we weren’t going to take the risk. Shops would say ‘Jews not welcome’.

But the worst thing that happened was this: my mother wasn't Jewish, all her family weren’t Jewish. We used to visit them quite happily, they had children, my mother’s cousins had children who were nearer my age than my own brother & sister. So I used to enjoy going there. One day, we went to this one aunt called Ella. She always made us very welcome but on this occasion she furtively looked round the door to see that nobody had seen us come. Almost pulled us into the flat, I was shooed into the other room to play with my cousin.

My mother & my aunt went into the kitchen & chatted, & they were out very quickly, normally they’d stay in there for ages & talk & we’d play. The first thing I noticed in the sitting room was that there was a big picture of Hitler on the wall where the mirror used to be. My cousin said to me ‘why are you looking at that, haven’t you got a picture of Hitler?’ I said, no, no, & what happened to the mirror? Oh, we took that down, this is much more important. I was nearly going to say something when my mother said ‘we’ve got to go. I forgot.'

I thought it was a bit strange but I went. And my mother said, I’m afraid we can’t go there any more. They’re going to be in trouble if Jews come into the flat, or meet us anywhere, my uncle would be out of a job, the children at school had been told to spy on their parents. It just wasn’t safe for them. So that was that. So we didn’t see any of my mother’s relations any more."

Eberswalde

Memories

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