Lani and Bill and I were so fortunate to have a chance to visit Berlin. It was the Toussaint break from International School of Paris. Dan had given us the plot number of Hermann Ringel's grave in the giant Jewish cemetery in east Berlin. The only guard there did not speak English, and gave us only a rudimentary map. We walked hours through beautiful overgrown, winding paths of twisted trees and fallen leaves, trying to decipher the logic to the location of the plots, with Lani mostly leading the way. I had practically given up when Lani shouted, "I found it".
Posting this now, with the awareness that we all may become German citizens, feels remarkable, and strangely comforting. Ogi held onto her photo of this grave through her escape and the rest of the years of her life. I love that we have the same photo.