REMNANTS OF BARNEY’S STORY
I remember sitting at my father-in-law's knee and asking him questions about his childhood. One cold afternoon, with the fire going, Barney began to painstakingly share with me that fateful day the German Nazi Soldiers came to his home to speak with his parents, (it was the only time I was able to get him to talk about his childhood). Eva (Barney's mother) was at home. She was at the door conversing with the Soldiers when they authoritatively ordered her to give up her two oldest boys for Hitler's Youth Army. She refused shaking her head no, no, no. The boys were holding tight to their mother's skirt as the Soldiers roughly yanked them off her with the boys and Eva screaming, Eva reaching for the boys and the boys for their mother, shouting and crying, "No, no. no!" The last thing the Soldier's yelled back at Eva in a gruff voice as they quickly dragged Barney (twelve years old) and Kurt (ten years old) away was, “Do not follow and try to find them-you are not allowed to see your sons!”
It wasn’t long before Eva did just that! She was not about to let her boys go. She was a good mother. Eva and Jonny lived in Hamburg as did their parents and ancestors before them for several thousand years (proved after much research). Eva found they were holding the boys in a Youth Camp, with conditions not much better than a Concentration Camp, 378 miles south in Nuremburg. (I am not certain how she traveled to Nuremburg, but in 1939/1940 I imagine it was by train and foot.) I’m sure the site before her broke her heart when she found the camp.
A chain-link fence stood dauntingly between Eva and the yard as she searched and searched to spot her sons, trying desperately to be inconspicuous. She finally saw Barney (Bernhard)! When the coast was clear, she hollered for him, still trying to be careful and not get caught, as she did not want to cause undue pain and hardship on the boys. Barney saw his beloved mother and grabbed his little brother’s hand and the boys ran to the fence reaching through the chain-link to touch their mother, all weeping. Eva sadly discovered her boys were starving. She brought bread with her in her bag. She broke it up and handed the pieces through the fence to feed her babies. She did this everyday they were incarcerated in the camp.
I have often marveled at Eva and her strength to withstand and witness this hardship happen to her babies. My heart goes out to her and her sons.
Well, the story does not end here. After the war, Barney came to America. He worked so hard laying cinder block to earn enough money to sponsor and personally bring every single member of his family to America, even going back to Germany, South America, and everywhere else he had to physically go to find his siblings and gather the family up one by one. He brought both of his parents, all his brothers and one sister as the other one had sadly passed away already at nineteen years old. What I didn’t know is the rest of the story…
One day, through Facebook, an Auntie of a young man that was friends with my daughter, saw our last name and reached out through messaging to learn if we were related to a man named Barney with the same last name. My daughter hollered at me to come and take a look, this message was in my “wheelhouse.”
I wrote back and said, “Yes, Barney is my father-in-law.”
She promptly replied and relayed the following:
“Our whole family will forever be eternally grateful to Uncle Barney for what he did for us. After the War he went to America and worked really hard to earn enough money to bring every member of our family to America. My father is the brother to his mother, Eva. Without Barney, we would not have been able to come.”
Her nephew filled in the rest of the details. He said, “My grandmother, Eva’s sister-in-law, was a gifted pianist (she has passed on to heaven). She taught my cousin how to play the piano. He too was born with the gift. You may know his work, John Schmidt (he plays with the Piano Guys now). If it wasn’t for Uncle Barney, we wouldn’t have the opportunities we have found in America.” This young man reiterated the love and gratitude for my father-in-law. I was so touched.
On the weekend, I promptly drove back up to the mountains where Barney lived in his cabin. I asked, “Dad? Do you have any relatives in the family that were a gifted pianist?”
Dad’s eyes lit up as he animatedly related in his thick German accent, “Oh yes, my Auntie! She was married to my Uncle, and a gifted pianist, played like an angel. I have never heard anyone play the piano like her. It always touched me (while pointing at his heart) when I heard her play. I have never in my life heard anyone play like that since she died.”
He omitted the part about sponsoring all them to America. I softly asked, “Dad? Did you bring all these people to America?”
He humbly replied, “Yes.” I got up and with tears streaming down my face, just hugged and hugged him. He was crying too and said simply that it was what he needed to do.
I love that sweet generous humble man. The war scarred him for life. He tried his best to live simply and not take life for granted. He was a simple man that loved deeply. My heart and life has been touched and forever changed for having the privilege to know him.
One important lesson here is to not judge those around us. People make mistakes and may be what we consider a little “backwards” or imperfect or not like us, but there is always so much more to the story than meets the eye and that folks simply do not share.
Finally, to come full circle, I once had the opportunity right before all of these details were discovered, to listen to John Schmidt play a Christmas concert at our church. He played the song “Waterfall” which he dedicated to his sweet grandmother. He went on to explain that he learned how to play the piano at her knee. He was able to learn enough from her and was blessed with the gift that after she died he was able to keep playing and his music ability blossomed which he felt she helped with from the other side.
Imagine my amazement when I learned the rest of the story!
#godisgood #history #familyhistory #family #war #love
