'Das Haus' the House and the Son of the Rabbi. Sean Ryan Stuart

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the next few days. Stay indoors, and if you are a shopkeeper, close your store for now. If you can, contact everyone you know and tell them what is going on.” Finished Goldmann as he ushered the rest of them out the door. For a moment, the crowd just milled about the hallway not knowing what to do. Finally, Rabbi Goldmann showed them the door and they reluctantly left.

      As the last visitors left his house, Rabbi Goldmann reflected on his earlier decisions. Should he stay? Where should they go? Maybe his younger brother Jacob in America could help them? Jacob had left Germany in 1927 and now lived near Chicago. He was a successful chicken farmer and often wrote Franz of his wonderful life in America. He decided to write him a letter as soon as possible. Franz was happy that he had given Werner his brother’s address.

      “Vater, vater I see smoke!” Screamed a terrified Erik from the second-story window.

      “I’ll be right up, son.” Answered a now panicked Franz as he scrambled up the twenty-one stairs to the second floor landing.

      Without pausing to take his breath, Franz gazed out the large East-facing window and saw a large column of black smoke rising up into the sky from the vicinity of the synagogue. He could not believe his eyes. How had they gotten back so fast? Were they really burning down his holy shrine? Or was it just another nearby house going up in flames?

      No! He thought to himself, this has to be my worst nightmare!

      He ran back down the stairs, nearly bowling over his wife Sarah. Franz grabbed the door handle to leave, when his wife begged him not to go.

      “Please, please, please. David, Don’t go! Who knows what these terrible men are capable of doing?” Supplicated a concerned Sarah.

      “Please don’t call me David, my name is Franz David and I have not been called that since my youth.” Shouted an obviously upset Franz.

      “I need to make a stand! We cannot allow this to happen to us, without some form of resistance! We are not sheep! God would want us to at least protest these horrible events? Don’t you think so?” Asked Franz as he ran out the door, closely followed by Erik.

      Sarah was convinced that her resistance was futile and that Rabbi Goldmann was on a quest, a holy quest! One filled with honor, dignity and goodness. She returned to the living room and sat quietly in a corner, hoping for the best.

      Rabbi Goldmann ran down the sidewalk as fast as he could. Within a few seconds, Erik was alongside of him. Both men sprinted the eight hundred meters to the synagogue. Before they could turn the corner in to what used to be the courtyard, a large crowd of bystanders had gathered to witness these horrible events. The now useless fire department stood by with their hoses still in their hands, looking on in disgust.

      The over one hundred year old synagogue was in flames. Bales of hay were stacked around the synagogue and were fiercely burning. Some of the Nazi hooligans had Jerry cans (gasoline cans) filled with petrol and were adding fuel to the fires. Some of the firemen had tears on their faces, and were being forcibly held back at gun point by the Nazis. The many spectators stood around and shook their heads in disbelief. Just when things seemed to be out of control, a loud cry was heard coming from the Catholic Church, at the end of the courtyard.

      “Schanda! Schanda! (Shame, Shame!) What next? The Catholic, and Protestant churches?” Shouted the incensed Catholic priest as he ran down towards the synagogue.

      Father Reiner Rushner, an avid anti-Nazi and community leader came running out of his church and screamed at the firemen. His voice sounding a lot harsher and meaner than anyone had ever heard before. Everyone just stood around and stared at him and at the Nazi officials. It was as if everyone knew the right thing to do, but lacked the courage to do it. Father Rushner ran over to the fire truck and started to unravel some of the fire hoses in a vain attempt to get someone motivated enough to actually do something.

      “Do your duty, you cannot let this happen! You must stop them!” Bellowed the extremely agitated Catholic priest. The Chief of Police came running out of his house and also attempted to stop the Nazis. Both the Catholic priest and Police Chief were immediately detained by the Nazis, and actually temporarily locked up in the one room police station. Krieger later released both men after a severe threat and warning.

      Just then, an out of breath Rabbi Goldmann came running around the corner and observed the destruction of his beloved synagogue. The flames had already reached the upper windows and they were violently exploding. Hundreds of pieces of broken glass were sent screaming throughout the area. Even the Nazi thugs took cover behind the large fire truck. The bald Nazi official shouted at everyone to stay away from the synagogue, and as if to emphasize his authority, he pulled out his 9mm Luger pistol and waved it at the crowd. Rabbi Goldmann ran forward in a vain attempt to stop the annihilation of his hopes and dreams. Everything that he believed in, was being turned in to ashes; blowing away in to the far reaches of heaven. How prophetic that the demolition of his synagogue would also mirror the destruction of over six million Jews in the next seven years.

      All who witnessed this travesty on humanity will never forget it. Although Niedergeyer only had a few die-hard Nazis, they too were similarly shocked by the brutality of their regime. This village has existed in harmony for hundreds of years, and they could not accept this type of violence. The only vocal and local Nazi was the Burgermeister (mayor) Heinrich Schniztler. Schnitzler was a short and stocky WWI veteran, who never amounted to anything in his life until he became a Nazi. He strutted around like a peacock; always wore his Nazi party members button, carried a wooden stick and often boasted of the Nazi Party’s many accomplishments.

      The Burgermeiser looked at Rabbi Goldmann, his short and quivering fat body shaking with rage. He stared directly at Franz and shouted at him.

      “You, you Jew! What are you trying to do? Are you interfering with Party matters? This is a serious offense! I warn all of you to stay out of this business, or you will face similar consequences, isn’t that so Herr Krieger?” Said a boisterous and vicious Burgermeister.

      For the first time since this event happened, a quiet and up to now uncommunicative Krieger, stepped out of the shadows and made himself known. He raised his head and stared at the crowd.

      “That is correct Herr Burgermeister! Anyone who interferes with our duties will be arrested immediately!” Growled the revived Gestapo man. Although his voice sounded harsh and authoritative, he failed to look Rabbi Goldmann in the eyes.

      Many in the crowd, turned in shock and looked at the dominating Gestapo man. The name sounded familiar, but his face was almost unrecognizable. The scar, the ugly scar made him almost impossible to identify.

      Finally after a few seconds, the crowd reacted to his statements and began to withdraw away from the scene. Slowly at first; faster and faster they disappeared down the small streets of Niedergeyer.

      “As of today, all Jewish inhabitants will report to me. Since the local jail is not big enough to house all the Jews in the area, I will have them report Rabbi Goldmann’s house. Anyone found aiding or hiding Jews, will also be arrested. All Jews must register within twenty-four hours! We will have some officials there to facilitate this process.” Screamed the Gestapo man.

      Everyone in the crowd seemed shocked by this pronouncement. While pointing his stubby finger at the crowd, the despicable and tormenting Burgermeister re-iterated Krieger’s statement with emphasis.

      As if by magic, everyone began to segregate themselves from Franz and Erik. Although many of the good citizens of Niedergeyer wanted to support their

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