The atmosphere in Germany had been changing around us. Like the seasons go, our world around us began to fade from a warm and welcoming summer into a crisp autumn, we knew it was going to be a long winter. When the Nazi’s came to power we had no idea what that would mean for our country, let alone my family. Our lives were our own, simple, hard-fought, and honest. My parents owned a bakery that made the best Kaiser Bread in all of Nuremberg, Germans and Jews alike would flock to our bakery every morning just to buy the buns for breakfast. We lived above our shop, and heart, work, and home were all in one place. Everything had changed though– on the night of 9th November, 1938 I awoke in a panic to my father beating on my door.
“Kristof — WAKE UP AT ONCE!” I darted out to the living room to see my mother and younger sister clinging to one another — tears running down their cheeks. My mother, cooing to my younger sister to comfort her was trembling herself. Outside the front windows fires lit up the night in a sea of yellow and rich orange. Shattering glass could be heard from below as we saw a group of men pummel our bakery with bricks before cackling with delight and moving on into the fire lit night. This was when we all knew that Germany wasn’t safe for us anymore.
Kristof Block
Nuremberg 1938