15 September 1930

The past few weeks have been the most interesting weeks of my life so far. I am now in the Weimar Republic; I left to come here on August 18^th, after spending a couple of short weeks with the great Mr. John Keynes. He left me his address, and told me to mail him when I return home to America when I have completed my task and become a seasoned traveler!

Germany is not at all what I thought it was going to be. In the States, I had heard rumblings of the changes happening over here after the war. The “Years of Crisis” were well documented in the newspapers, and I had seen pictures of men carrying their paychecks in wheelbarrows. I was expecting the absolute worst . . . but when I arrived off the train, I saw a different Germany than I had pictured! There has been a lot of change. The buildings are largely very state-of-the-art, and the music I am hearing is so different from anything I have ever heard. It is strange, but I see a little piece of home here in Germany. I’ve been talking to a lot of people, and generally this “cultural revival” is appreciated, but some of the older folk I’ve managed to understand (I don’t speak very good German) have had nothing but complaints about Germany losing her traditional values . . . all I can think is that this must be better than it was after the war.

However, things seem to be taking a turn for the worse once again. Yesterday, there was an election in Germany. A group called the Nazis are said to have gotten more than 6,000,000 votes . . . I am not sure how I feel about it, but generally people are happy that they are now the largest party in Germany. I heard their leader, Adolph Hitler, speak a couple of weeks ago, and he was admittedly enrapturing. There is just something unsettling about the way he speaks to Germans like they are the only people on the planet; the other day on the radio I heard him say that “The struggle for world domination will be fought entirely between us, between Germans and Jews.  All else is facade and illusion.  Behind England stands Israel, and behind France, and behind the United States.  Even when we have driven the Jew out of Germany, he remains our world enemy.” This disturbed me, right down to my very core, and what disturbed me more is that people are listening to him say these things, every day.

Equally disturbing is the fact that I discovered I am distantly related to Hitler. We are connecting by a woman named Anna Maria Goeschl. She died in 1854 but after much research I stumbled upon the startling fact that she is my great-great-great aunt thrice removed; she was Adolph Hitler’s great-grandmother. It provides little comfort, the distance of our relation.

On the bright side, my family tree has now officially begun. 

12 August 1930

I arrived in England a few days ago, after a long and nauseating haul across the Atlantic Ocean. When we pulled into the harbor in Portsmouth I had just thrown up over the side of the ship for the twelfth time that week, and I must say that I had never felt more relieved in my lifetime! Every time a wave would come crashing over the side of the boat during the journey my mind would flash to the many newspaper articles that father used to read to me a long time ago, about the Titanic sinking. He kept all those articles thinking that Majahem and I would benefit from the knowledge of the disaster, but it did not prepare me very well for the boat ride over here!

I plan to stay here for a few weeks. Currently I am in London, staying with a kind man by the name of John. I am having trouble starting my family tree. I was hoping that on the way over I would have discovered a distant family member that serve as a starting point for this seemingly impossible project; alas, no such luck. Anyways, Mr. Keynes is putting me up in his small apartment for a while, as I figure out my travel plans. He is an extraordinary man. Before I came to England, I was under the impression that I would step off the boat and feel . . . uplifted. That’s not to say that I expected to be swept off my feet by welcome and good cheer, but I suppose I was praying for something better than Michigan. However, I was greeted by a sight that was all too familiar; men with the same grim looks etched on their faces as the men in Michigan. Worried looking women cradling hungry screaming babies . . . if I didn’t have such seasickness, I would have had half a mind to turn right back around and get on the boat again. Mr. Keynes has explained so much to me; just last night we sat in his study (which was littered with various books and papers), drank tea and spoke about England’s situation. I will not lie, at first I judged this man to be a raving lunatic. “We must spend our money!” he said to me, “Saving pennies will be the ruin of the working man!” Well, I was about to make some excuse to go to bed at an early hour, when everything he was saying began to make sense. So, we delved into deeper issues about the unemployment issue in England, and I found out just how interesting a man he really is. He told me a lot about the book he is writing (which explains the crumpled papers on the floor), “General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money”. He hopes one day to speak on the radio, to spread his message throughout England, for he thinks that this is the only way out of the slump. I would tend to agree with him!

Mr. Keynes suggested that I begin my hunt for family in Germany. He said that my blond hair and blue eyes might indicate that I have German roots, though Father and Mother never spoke of them. I intend to take his advice, and make sure that I buy and extra packet of peanuts for the journey, to do my bit for England's economy!

30 July 1930

© Majahem Squilm

Time to depart! This morning I woke up to the sound of squawking chickens and the smell of burning oatmeal on the stove. My brother, Majahem, has never been good at the daily making of the oatmeal . . . I forgive him, though, for all he has done for us. After Mom ran away with the circus and Dad went away to fight, it has been hard to make a living. I myself found a safe haven in the ladies at the Chesapeake-Potomac Telephone Company. I am one of them now; I call myself a "flapper". It will be hard to depart on my own, without them . . . my dress won't feel quite as silky, my hair-bun will feel just a bit too tight. Majahem has been finding work on the streets. He has wonderful talent as a painter, but unfortunately because of the recent shortage of money in these parts, he hasn't been selling much. But I think that he's just wonderful, so these hard times won't last long for us. While I'm away he will be working even more than usual. 

 I depart today at 3:00pm. Thank God the ship will have wifi so that I can blog my feelings (gratuitous historical anachronism here). I am clinging onto my boat ticket like I am holding onto my ticket to freedom, and I hope this becomes true. I am truly excited, and am carrying an old pearl necklace that was given to me by Aunt Mabel, so that she will be with me throughout this trip.

The Start of an Odyssey

Today is the day I turn my life around. For years I have felt ... really sad ... because of the Depression here in Michigan. It isn't easy, being a student in these times. If I have to eat beans and toast for one more breakfast, lunch or dinner, I think I might set fire to my apartment building. Anyways.

A word about good ol' Auntie Mabel. She was a wonderful woman; she enjoyed knitting by the fireplace, adopted stray kittens and baked deliciously chewy cookies on a regular basis. I suppose it did come as a bit of a shock to me when she told me, in her last hours, that she was on a first-name basis with Al Capone and had been making money off of illegal alcohol sales since Prohibition came into effect. I never did pick her out as a gangster, but she was still such a cute and loving little old lady. It wasn't her fault that she mixed up her daily dose of cough medicine with the "Soda Pop Moon" she was meant to have delivered to another unsuspecting victim. Poor old Auntie Mabel. That was one phone call I will never forget.

Mabel left me everything she had, including 32 cats which are now effectively stinking up my small apartment. But she left me more than just her money...with that she bestowed on me a passport to see the world, to find out who I really am, just as Mabel wanted. And so, dear readers, this journal is intended to be an inspiration to you all, in these distressing times.