From the Archives: July 4, 1944, celebrations, Post Island, Massachusetts

The family beach cottage (house), Post Island, Quincy, Massachusetts, USA

My dad spent part of World War II in Puerto Rico working for the US Navy. He was a civilian engineer, and when the project ended, he returned home to Boston. His sister and brother-in-law owned a cottage (house) on the shore at Post Island, a section of the Hough's Neck Peninsula that projects out into Massachusetts Bay. He joined them and the other beach residents for old-fashioned 4th of July celebrations.

Uncle Cliff and the horseshoes

The Penny search in the sand

Aunt Mary at the potato race

Watermelon consumption contest

Costume contest

Tennis champions with non-tennis shoes

Enjoying a short one in a genuine woody station wagon

Dianne enjoying a mackerel

Dulcie, Aunt Mary, and Joe on the beach

These Kodachromes record a world that looks so ordinary, so Americana. Children are enjoying a holiday at the beach. The gents are building an addition to a house. Girls are playing tennis. The very innocence of these scenes is the point. 

War was waging on three continents. Terrific battles were being waged on the Pacific Islands, in France and China, and on the horrifying Eastern Front. Civilians in China and Russia were starving. Most families in these pictures had a relative or neighbor overseas or on the oceans. 

But in Massachusetts on this sunny July day, life looked so normal. There was no destruction, hunger, or fear. The houses were neat and intact. The lights were on. By 1944, civilians could buy butter, sugar, coffee, and gasoline, although the latter may have still been rationed. The miseries of war seemed far away.

In a total contrast, in 1944, my mother was a child in Berlin. Life there was much more brutal.

My dad was able to afford and buy 35mm Kodachrome film and use it for family snapshots. Possibly he had bought the rolls at the navy post exchange on Puerto Rico before he returned to the mainland, but regardless, he felt secure enough in its availability to use it for casual photographs. It underscores the amazing capability of our industrial output. 

These photographs are the original 35mm Kodachrome. I think the film speed was Weston 8 or approximately ASA 10. I am not sure if my dad used an electronic light meter then. The camera might have been his Perfex, made by the Candid Camera Corporation of Chicago, Illinois, with unknown 50mm lens. I scanned these slides on my Nikon CoolScan 5000 film scanner, operated by NikonScan software on a Windows 7 computer.

From the Archives: Washington-Hoover Airport, Arlington, Virginia 1941 or 1942

Eastern Airlines DC-2.

The Washington-Hoover Airport served Washington, DC, from the mid-1930s until 1941, when it was closed and replaced by the modern National Airport (now Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport). Hoover was located about where the south parking lot of the Pentagon is situated. Construction of the Pentagon began on on November 8, 1941, dating these photographs a few months earlier.

When I first looked at these negatives, I thought they depicted National Airport. But a friend (a gent in his 80s) from Alexandria, Virginia, was highly certain that this was not National. The Wikipedia web page describes the closure of the older airport: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Washington-Hoover_Airport. That would date my dad's pictures to late-1941, which is possible because I read in one of his 1941 diary entries that he was thinking of buying a 35mm format camera. He bought an American-made Perfex camera, made by the Candid Camera Corporation of Chicago. I assume this roll of film was one of his early tests. The Cameraquest web page describes the Perfex cameras if you are interested.

The film was in terrible condition. Whoever developed it used the brush method, which was described in older photography magazines. No wonder it fell out of favor. My Silverfast Ai scanning software has anti-scratch software, but it could only do so much with these. Still, I am surprised how much detail is visible. The film edge said Kodak Safety Film Plus-X ("Safety" meaning not nitrate-based film, which was unstable and highly flammable).

Unfortunately, there were only 5 frames on this roll with air field photographs. The other frames were rather mundane tourist scenes in Washington (statue of heroic soldier on horse, etc.). This serves as a lesson that as the years pass, scenes or topics that seem ordinary often take on historical importance, or at least interest. But standard tourist sites are rather unchanging unless you include cultural artifacts, such as parked cars or signs.

Framed photograph in the Mayflower Hotel, photographer and date unknown.

The old Washington-Hoover airport was soundly criticized by pilots and almost everyone as being dangerous and hopelessly inadequate as the airport for the nation's capital. The runways were short, a nearby dump that was on fire made plumes of thick smoke, nearby radio antennas were a hazard, and Military Road had to be blocked by guards when planes landed or took off. At one time, there was a swimming pool, which children reached by crossing the runway.

Gravely Point, Virginia, with dredging underway to prepare artificial land for National Airport. From the Historic American Engineering Record, Library of Congress; United States Library of Congress's Prints and Photographs division  digital ID hhh.va1677/photos.368605p. 

Construction of the new National Airport was mired in the standard political and budgetary malarky (nothing has changed in 75 years). There was even controversy about the boundary between Virginia and the District of Columbia. Read the sordid history in the link above. The new National Airport opened just before our entry into World War II. This was fortuitous timing because the world war resulted in a tremendous increase in air traffic into Washington and Virginia. 

From the History of Reagan National Airport:

When it opened, National Airport was considered the “last word” in airports – a concentration of the ultramodern developments in design of buildings, handling of planes, air traffic and field traffic control, field lighting, facilities for public comfort and convenience, and surface vehicle traffic control. 

Well, not quite. Across the ocean, in Berlin, the spectacular Templehof Airport was under construction and almost complete in 1941. Please see my 2016 article on Templehof.

Escape from Berlin, 1945: a Family Journey

Dear Readers, this article is different than my normal Urban Decay topics. Still, it is a story of decay - of the catastrophic collapse of an evil government and the fate of some of its innocent victims. This is the story of how my family escaped from Berlin in April of 1945 during the chaotic final days of the Second World War in Europe, when the Soviet armies were entering Berlin.

My family came from Greece and moved to Germany in 1938, when my grandfather got a job in Berlin. He was a highway engineer. At this time, the Germans were building the autobahns and were at the forefront of highway technology. My grandfather (Opa) and mother were Greek-born, while my grandmother (Oma) and Aunt Hellas were German-born. Needless to say, moving to Germany in 1938 was a terrible strategic decision.

The family moved to a flat in the Charlottenberg area of Berlin, near the Neu-Westend U-Bahn station and near the 1936 Olympic stadium complex. My mother remembers that they lived on the second floor at the corner of Ratzeburger Allee and Ebereschenallee. These buildings survived the war with little damage, and the area is still a quiet residential district. Some of the apartment blocks are rather severe. I have seen similar apartments in Polish cities.

My mother was a young girl then and did not remember the exact the address of the flat. But when I showed her this picture of the door with twin portholes, she immediately recognized it (you can see it in Photograph 1 behind the yellow car). She said when you entered, one flight of steps led up and another led down to the basement, which was very frightening.

This is Steubenplatz today, with Ebereschenallee coming in from the right. My mother remembers that one store facing the platz in the 1940s was a pharmacy.

This is the Neu-Westend U-Bahn station. The location and shape is likely the same as in the 1940s, and the vertical beams with rivets may be pre-war.

My mother and Hellas went to school. My mother remembers that girls and boys were separated by a barbed wire fence. The teachers were very strict, and everyone had to rise and say, "Heil Hitler." She also remembered seeing Jewish people wearing the large yellow stars on their clothes. A correspondent from Germany wrote that jews in the Reich were forced to wear the yellow star as late as September 1941 (I thought it was much earlier). Jews of German origin were first deported in October of 1940 in south Germany, and mass deportations continued as late as October 1941. 

School class portrait, 1942? Mobile phone scan from paper print in album.

After the war started, the family applied to leave Germany, but because my grandmother and Hellas were German-born, they were not allowed to leave. The family was not in a wealth category in which they could buy an exit permit by turning over valuable assets (such as art) or properties.

Opa in his office, 1943 (photographer and exact location unknown)

As the war progressed, my grandfather lost his job. Oma's Uncle Max and his wife took over the apartment so that it would appear to be leased to a German family. Opa had to remain hidden in one room in the flat for fear that he might be arrested. My mother said that other residents surely knew that a Greek family was in the flat, but no one ever turned them in to the police. The ladies were blond and spoke fluent German, so they could leave the flat and move about. The family sold possessions to raise money for food. They had only two food vouchers, for the two German-born  members of the household. I assume Max and his wife shared their food.

For 18 months, the Allies bombed Berlin day and night, and for most nights, residents had to shelter in the cellars. But Opa had to remain hidden upstairs even during the bombings. One day, a bomb fell through the bathrooms and the tub from above crashed through the ceiling. Luckily, the bomb did not explode. She remembers Opa listening to the BBC on a wireless receiver with a blanket over his head to muffle the sound. Listening to foreign radio was an offense that would lead to execution.

Late in the war, the authorities evacuated Aunt Hellas and other school-age girls to the woods of Prussia to escape the bombing. But she and a young actress or opera singer knew someone important in the Goebbels propaganda organization, and they secured travel permits to return to Berlin.

My mother said one day she and Oma were out shopping for vegetables and heard noises of gunfire. The civilian population had been so thoroughly insulated from real news by the government's propaganda, they had no idea the Soviet army was entering the city. Today, we find this hard to believe. But totalitarian governments know that control of the media means they can dominate the populace. 

This is a map of Soviet advance from:
http://www.armchairgeneral.com/rkkaww2/maps/1945W/1BF/Berlin/1BF_1UF_Berlin_Apr19-28_45.jpg

They rushed home, grabbed a few possessions, and went to the train station. Prior to this, residents were not allowed to leave Berlin, but all order must have broken down. Amazingly, even as the Nazi government was collapsing, trains were still running. I assume they went to the Westend Bahnhof. My mother and Oma went one day, while Opa and Hellas followed a day later. 

The 1946 photograph above shows a tank graveyard near Westend Bahnhof, from :
https://www.stadtmuseum.de/sites/default/files/styles/mfp_popup/public/mediapool/gallerie/berlin-1945-panzerfriedhof-gueterbahnhof-westend.jpg.

Their destination was a small town in the Schwarzwald (southwest Germany) named Reichental, where the family had vacationed before the war. Everyone with any sense tried to flee to the west, away from the Soviets. The train ride was terrible. When allied planes flew overhead, everyone got off and sheltered in ditches or fled into fields because the planes strafed the trains. People were packed tight into cattle cars. 

Oma had a brother, Kurt, who had died near Kursk (Russia). His wife was on the train with two children. The baby died, and my mother said they threw the baby out because there was no room. It is hard to believe horrors like this. I do not know if the family was ever in touch with Kurt's wife after the war and do not know what happened to Max and his wife. 

My mother, Hellas, Oma, and Opa spent a few months in Reichental and then moved to a United Nations refugee camp. Three of them briefly returned to the apartment in Berlin, I assume to recover documents and possibly some possessions. But essentially they had lost everything. They eventually made it back to Greece in the late-1940s. They had endured a decade of war, tragedy, and turmoil. 

Dear Readers, this was only 72 years ago, in what had been one of the most urbane, educated, and developed countries in the world. So many millions of innocent people suffered and died. But despite the lessons of history, many people are still susceptible to the hollow promises of demagogues and frauds. Consider the 2016 election in the USA and the scammer who entered the White House. Note how he adopted the classic techniques of fascists to ferment discord within the nation, feign victimization of a particular demographic, manufacture enemies, and then make hollow promises that only he can save the nation. 

Be eternally grateful that we still have an open press free of government censorship in USA. Beware of propaganda tools that parrot the party line and manufacture an alternative fantasy (i.e., Fox News). And beware of banning books in schools and libraries to control the narrative of history and deceive the populace. These are classic tools of totalitarian and fascist governments.

Remain vigilant and never let a war like this happen again.

Massive 20th Century Architecture: Tempelhof Airport, Berlin, Germany

In the late 1930s, Nazi Germany was in the ascendency. It was recovering from the devastating inflation of the Weimar era and from the Great Depression, was rebuilding its industry and finances, was flexing its military power, and wanted to demonstrate to the world that it was a technological leader. What better way than to build the world's most modern and sophisticated airport? The leaders of the Third Reich conceived their new airport to be an architectural testament to German supremacy and superiority.

In addition to demonstrating the wealth and technological superiority of the Reich, the new airport was to become one of the cornerstones of a new Berlin, to be renamed Germania. The plan was for thousands of grungy old plebeian apartments and commercial buildings to be razed and replaced with monumental architecture. In the late-1930s, wholesale building demolition began, and some construction started, including the new airport. But by 1940, the war intervened, money and manpower were siphoned away to the war effort, and Germania never came to fruition.

The broad open site where Tempenhof is located had been used for aviation since the beginning of the 20th century. Orville and Wilbur Wright demonstrated their mechanized flying machine on the Tempelhof fair ground in 1909. The Flughafen Berlin Brandenburg web page has a Tempelhof timeline. A modest terminal building was built in 1927, and this older building continued to serve as the commercial airport through World War II. Amazingly, Lufthansa continued to fly passengers out of Berlin until April 1945, just days before the end of the war.

Main entry hall of Tempelhof airport, in use until 2008.

The monumental new terminal was built between 1936 and 1941, designed by a Prof. Ernst Sagebiel, who was closely associated with the Luftwaffe. Initially, it appears as if money was no object, because not only was the scale of the building monumental, but the very finest marble and limestone were used in the decoration. The building was never completed. After the invasion of the Soviet Union in 1941, all work on Germania ended. And although mostly functional, the new monumental building was never used by the Nazi government as a passenger terminal. Instead, it was converted into an aircraft factory. Fighter planes were built or repaired in the main entry hall and underground tunnels, pushed out onto the tarmac, and flown off into combat.

During the war, the Tempelhof suffered very little bomb damage. Our guide said the likely reason is the Allies knew they would need an airfield after victory, so they made sure to not bomb the site. Initially in 1945, the Soviets occupied Tempenhof. An explosion of mysterious origin destroyed the roof of the main entrance hall. Therefore, the roof you see in the first photograph is post-war and about 3 m lower than the original.

The office and administration buildings were built in the severe style popular in Nazi architecture. They were massive and purposeful, intended to portray power and permanence. Notice in the second photograph, part of the facade is clean. Our tour guide told us that a portion of the film, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay — Part 2, was filmed here. The film crew cleaned part of the facade to make it look fresh, but neglected to clean the rest of the wall.

My photographs really don't convey the scale of this building, which was 1.2 km long. At the time of construction, it may have been the largest building on earth. The long curved roof that you see in the right side of the photograph was not only a cover over the aircraft loading and unloaded area, but was also intended to serve as bleachers where over 100,000 loyal citizens of the Reich could watch parades and political assemblies. Stairs were built in towers to funnel these thousands up to the roof.

This is one of the stairs that would be used by the people heading for the roof. It is a double spiral stair, where one side is for uphill traffic and the other for downhill.

After descending from the roof, our guide led us into a long hallway that had not been completed. The ceiling, still blackened from the 1945 fires, shows the original design. This roof is 3 m higher than the post-war roof in the main entrance hall.

This is the view of the tarmac under the cantilevered roof. In the 1930s, when planes were smaller, a plane could pull in under this huge roof and passengers would be protected from the weather. Part of the roofed area was enclosed to serve as hangars.

Tempelhof played a critical role in the famous Berlin Airlift of 1948-1949. The Soviet Union had closed all ground-level access to Berlin, and the United States and United Kingdom supplied West Berlin with food and fuel by aircraft. At its peak, one plane landed every 3 minutes, was unloaded, and flew away. Supporting the German population in West Berlin at incredible cost and not abandoning the city to the Soviet Union was a major propaganda coup and did much to make the German people look upon the Allies favorably. As stated on the web site of the State Department Office of the Historian, "It also transformed Berlin, once equated with Prussian militarism and Nazism, into a symbol of democracy and freedom in the fight against Communism."

The photograph above is titled, "U.S. Navy Douglas R4D and U.S. Air Force C-47 aircraft unload at Tempelhof Airport during the Berlin Airlift. The first aircraft is a C-47A-90-DL (s/n 43-15672)." from  U.S. Navy National Museum of Naval Aviation, photo No. 2000.043.012 (in the public domain).

The terminal was in use until 1988. One of the main problems was the runways were too short for many modern aircraft. Because the site was surrounded by city, there was no practical way to extend the runways.

Much of the interior decoration looks like it came from the post-war modernism 1960s. It is quite appealing when done well.

For many decades, the US Air Force occupied part of the complex. Air Force personnel lived in the city, but recreation facilities were on the upper floors. Our guide told us that occasionally a former airman stationed at Templehof came on the tour and remembered his posting here with fondness.

In the deepest parts of the basements, bomb shelters were set up for civilians during World War II. To make children feel less uncomfortable, quotes and figures from German folklore were painted on the walls.

Today the huge complex is largely unused. Tourists take the guided walking tours and pose in the main entrance hall. The Berlin police rents part of one office building. The organization that runs Templehof is trying to attract new tenants. Rock concerts and trade shows were held in some of the hangars.

But the concerts are on hold. An organization that helps refugees has rented (or used) sections of the former hangars to house hundreds of Middle Eastern refugees from. They put up temporary walls and bunk beds; I am not sure about food services or sanitation. A New York Times article describes this new phase of the airport's evolving history.

Berlin has been building a new Berlin Brandenburg Airport adjacent to the existing Schönefeld Airport. The new Brandenburg has cost €5.4 billion, is delayed, and has been plagued by cost overruns, significant technical issues, construction flaws, bankruptcies, and corruption. Our guide said the new terminal may need to be torn down and totally replaced at a cost of more than €10 billion! Pity they can't reuse Tempelhof.

The architectural design of a wide cantilevered roof extending out over the parked airplanes was copied by the architects of the Pan American Airlines Worldport at Idlewild (later Kennedy) Airport in New York. It was a striking design for the modern jet era, and from the air, the building looked like a flying saucer. Note that PanAm was also a major user of Templehof for 4 decades. After PanAm went bankrupt in 1991, Delta took over the Worldport. Passing through several times in the early 2000s, I recall that the building looked tired and grungy. A 2013 Vanity Fair article outlines how the The National Trust for Historic Preservation and other preservationists tried to save the Worldport, but the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey was uninterested. The photograph above is from 2013, when I was lucky enough to land at Kennedy while demolition was underway. (I also flew out of Idlewild in 1962, but I was too young to care about architecture.)

Photographs at Tempelhof taken with a Fuji X-E1 digital camera with 14mm and 18-55mm Fuji lenses.

Tragic Memories: the Jewish Cemetery of Łódź, Poland

Cmentarz Żydowski is north of downtown Łódź, near where the Jewish Ghetto was located in World War II. The cemetery has a long history. As summarized in the Jewish Łódź Cemetery web page:

The Cemetery at the Bracka Street in Lodz was established in 1892. About 160 000 people are buried there. Today the Cemetery has an area of 39,6 hectare. In more than 100 years of the history of the Cemetery many meritorious for our city and its history people like known rabbis, fabricants, physicians, politicians, social activists etc were buried at this Cemetery. Their tombstones often show high class of stone and metal craftworks. 

Also here are buried victims of one of the most tragic events in the history of the mankind - Holocaust.  On the part of the Cemetery called “Ghetto Field” some 43 000 victims from the Ghetto Lodz, who died from hunger and consumption, are buried there. On their graves seldom we can see a matzeva. To keep the memory about them, the Foundation cleaned this area in the years 2004 - 2009.  In spite of other works on the Cemetery, Ghetto Field was the most important and crucial to restore so, that the few still living descendants of the persons buried there, could put the matzeva on the graves of their love ones, and the Ghetto Field would receive the character of the military cemetery, as it in fact is.

The entrance on Bracka Street is a bit hard to find, but a GPS will direct you there. We overlapped with a holocaust remembrance event, during which two busloads to visitors rolled up soon after we arrived. A sign said, "No Photography," but the bus visitors were all using digital cameras and video equipment.

The cemetery was largely undamaged in World War II, which is unusual in Poland. And during the Communist era, it was mostly neglected. So the site today has largely returned to forest. Huge trees draped with vines cover much of the site, making it resemble the fanciful paintings of ruined classical temples being overcome by nature (known as capriccio), which were popular in the 1800s.

Many of the monuments are still upright, but thousands have fallen, the victims of tree roots or collapsing coffins beneath. Some stones have been cleaned by relatives, but many more are lichen- and mold-encrusted. But the artistic quality of the stone carving still shines through.

The cemetery goes on and on. You could spend hours exploring. In some area, volunteers have cleared underbrush within the last few years, but other areas are thickets of brush and tree saplings.

Do visit and spend some time contemplating one of the profound tragedies of the 20th century, the Holocaust.

The square photographs were taken with Kodak Tri-X 400 black and white film in a Rolleiflex 3.5E twin lens reflex camera with a 75mm f/3.5 Schneider Xenotar lens. Film development: Kodak HC-110 dilution "B", 4:45 at 68° F. The exposure range from the dark undergrowth to the sunny sky was at the limit of the Tri-X to record, and I had to modify the tone curve when I scanned the negatives with a Minolta ScanMulti medium format film scanner. I cleaned spots and lint with Pixelmator software on a Mac Mini computer.

Update March 2017:  During World War II, photographer Henryk Ross took photographers in and around the Jewish Ghetto at great risk to his life. He buried the negatives in the ground in 1944 to try to preserve them. A Washington Post article describes an exhibit of Ross's photographs at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, Massachusetts.