She remained on the steps, waiting for Papa, watching the stray ash and the corpse of collected books.Everything was sad. Orange and red embers looked like rejected candy, and most of the crowd had vanished.She’d seen Frau Diller leave (very satisfied) and Pfiffikus (white hair, a Nazi uniform, the same dilapidatedshoes, and a triumphant whistle). […]
The Dangerous Lesson Hans Hubermann Taught Liesel About Hitler Read More »
n the evening, it would be wrung out and bleached again, ready for the next dawn.And that was when the fighting was only during the day.With his son gone, Hans Hubermann stood for a few moments longer. The street looked so big.When he reappeared inside, Mama fixed her gaze on him, but no words were
The Town Square Fire and the Power of Words Read More »
“Some of it’s missing.” Mama counted the money a fourth time, with Liesel over at the stove. It was warm thereand it cooked the fast flow of her blood. “What happened, Liesel?”She lied. “They must have given me less than usual.”“Did you count it?”She broke. “I spent it, Mama.”Rosa came closer. This was not a
From Molching to Stalingrad: The Tragic Foreshadowing of Hans Junior Read More »
The rot started with the washing and it rapidly increased.When Liesel accompanied Rosa Hubermann on her deliveries across Molching, one of her customers, ErnstVogel, informed them that he could no longer afford to have his washing and ironing done. “The times,” heexcused himself, “what can I say? They’re getting harder. The war’s making things tight.”
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She was taken up, put in a chair at the side, and told to keep hermouth shut by the teacher, who also happened to be a nun. At theother end of the classroom, Rudy looked across and waved. Lieselwaved back and tried not to smile.At home, she was well into reading The Grave Digger’s Handbookwith
The Mother of All Watschens: Liesel’s Defiance and the Grave Digger’s Secret Read More »
He took her to Hubert Oval, the scene of the Jesse Owens incident,where they stood, hands in pockets. The track was stretched out infront of them. Only one thing could happen. Rudy started it.“Hundred meters,” he goaded her. “I bet you can’t beat me.”Liesel wasn’t taking any of that. “I bet you I can.”“What do
Rudy Steiner vs. Liesel Meminger: The Bet, the Mud, and the “Jesse Owens” Legacy Read More »
RUDY STEINERHe was eight months older than Liesel and had bony legs, sharpteeth, gangly blue eyes, and hair the color of a lemon.One of six Steiner children, he was permanently hungry.On Himmel Street, he was considered a little crazy.This was on account of an event that was rarely spoken aboutbut widely regarded as “The Jesse
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get rid of all that fur? It’s everywhere!” Helena Schmidt was a rich widow. “That old cripple—sitting there just wasting away. She’s never had to do a day’s work in all her life.” Rosa’s greatest disdain, however, was reserved for 8 Grande Strasse. A large house, high on a hill, in the upper part of
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Those first few months were definitely the hardest. Every night, Liesel would nightmare. Her brother’s face. Staring at the floor. She would wake up swimming in her bed, screaming, and drowning in the flood of sheets. On the other side of the room, the bed that was meant for her brother floated boatlike in the
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She’d heard it several times in the past few years. “Communist.” There were boardinghouses crammed with people, rooms filled with questions. And that word. That strange word was always there somewhere, standing in the corner, watching from the dark. It wore suits, uniforms. No matter where they went, there it was, each time her father
The Silver-Eyed Man and the Profane Mother: A Story of Survival and Cigarettes Read More »