Chapter 14 – East Berlin – The Stasi – Finding Out The Hard Way About My Father

Deep inside something felt very wrong.
But there were many things pushing me to take the risk.
It is the winter of 1979, and the snow and ice made the mood as bitter and cold as the gray skies that hung low to the ground.
Chissy Steger, one of the “Maske” ladies in the theater still had family in East Berlin. She regularly went across the border to visit them, and she would bring the luxurious essentials that one could not get over there from the West.
(I was to learn that while bringing things from the West to the East were no problem. Bringing anything from the East into the West were forbidden.)
There were a few great lures to her invite. The first was that we were going to see the Pergamon Museum just inside East Berlin. According to her, this museum had the reconstruction of the Walls of Babylon and they had painfully reconstructed the Ishtar Gate brick by brick, from the tiny, glazed brick fragments that were found in the rubble of Babylon.
This monumental archeological accomplishment had taken years and was the goal and ambition of the German Empires Imperial government in the 1930s.
I love art and I love museums. I find that I learn so much by visiting museums and allowing myself to wander through the vibrations of history. Such a massive archeological reconstruction held great alure to me as I am one that loves to feel the energy that is still held in the very stones of ancient people.
And then there was going to be a performance of the Deutsche Staatsoper Ballet in East Berlin that evening. That was an irresistible combination and one that I just could not refuse.
I am young, naïve, and trying to test my wings. I thought it would be … interesting to go over to the East Block. One cannot understand something until one experiences those things first hand.
I was not stupid. I would never do this alone. In this case, I had the perfect escort. After all, Chissy was born on that side, and she had taken a huge risk as the wall was being built. She worked on the west side of the wall, but her family was on the east side.
All that changed in the early hours of August 13, 1961 as Berliners slept. The GDR began building fences and barriers to seal off entry points from East Berlin into the Western parts of the city.
Overnight, the GDR decided that there were too many people fleeing the eastern side for the more prosperous western part of the city. Chissy made an instant decision and decided to layer extra clothing on her body, she stuffed small essentials in her pockets, and that is how she left East Berlin and her family to work and live in West Berlin.
Within two weeks the border was sealed with barbed wire and soldiers. The wall that I saw in Berlin in 1979 had been built later over time. It was solid concrete and laced at the top with glass shards and barbed wire.
I admired Chissy’s bravery and courage, as she knew what was coming and made a choice.
So, we (myself and her friends) decided to go on a visit to the East in the death of winter in Berlin, 1979.
It was before Christmas and her friends also had family on the other side. It was a perfect time to go and share good cheer.
I get to her house to prepare because I can be an extra pair of hands to bring gifts over.
Now, you have to remember, my German is not the best, but I am slowly making progress. It is possible that she explained more to be about this excursion into the East and I did not completely understand completely.
In fact, I am sure that is probably what happened. However, I get to her house, and I am asked to take off my heavy coat and she snips the lining of the coat open (much to my shock and surprise) and begins stuffing West German newspapers into the lining of my coat.
Remember, she was a costume designer and make-up/wigmaker. She was swiftly doing this and making my coat puffier but she was very clever in not making the papers show. Clearly her coat and her friends’ coats were already set and mine was the last one to do. I wanted to object because clearly this was not allowed otherwise why are we hiding the newspapers.
After a few questions she did say that it was illegal to bring western newspapers into the eastern block, but that she did it all the time in the winter and no one had ever stopped her. She assures me that we are going to go through the Friedrichstrasse subway entrance to get into East Berlin (which is under Checkpoint Charlie). She explained that it was an easier way to get in especially if you were German.
I quietly hear my brain say, “But I am not German!”
Not wanting to be a party-pooper, I went along with the process and now ready, dressed, and with gifts in hand, we make our way to the U-Bahn and embark on this grand adventure.
It was fun because they were all easygoing, relaxed. Everyone was in a holiday mood and happy to be going to see family. I had brought my purse with money, passport, and a book to read. I did not know why I brought that book, but it was about to come in handy.
The weather was atrocious, and it is bitterly cold. But I do realize that the paper insulation is oddly helping block out the cold.
Now, when I say cold … I mean really cold. I was grateful that my heavy coat had a hood. But even with a hat, scarf, gloves, coat, and hood, it was bitterly cold.
We get to the entrance to East Berlin and there are two lines. An “Auslander” line (for anyone that is not German) and a line for Germans. Obviously, they pick the later and they say they will meet me on the other side.
I go into the “Foreigner” line and before I know it, the GDR officials have taken my passport, and put me in a small room with a two-way mirror.
Instantly my mind starts to panic! I am attempting to understand what is happening. Why have I been singled out? Do they know I am carrying contraband? They did take all my gifts and were opening them up. I am trying to act cool while worrying about having the contraband newspapers in my coat and deeply concerned that I am separated from my friends.
Now, I do have German/Austrian ancestors on one side and so I look very German and Susannah Wagner is about as German as it gets. But clearly, I have been singled out for some reason.
Instantly, I recognize that this probably has something to do with my father. I remember him warning me about using the American Express Gold Card only in an emergency. That entire conversation flashed in my head. My childhood family secrets starts to come flying back in my memory.
I can’t help but thinking that perhaps this was a very bad idea!
The Stasi (the East Berlin Secret Police) were known for terrible things. It was too easy and common for people to just disappear. I did know that much. That was why I wanted to go with others that were German. I knew alone, such a thing was inadvisable.
Trying to stay calm and looking as if I don’t have a care in the world. I take out my book and nonchalantly start reading. I have to remember to pretend to turn the page of the book at an appropriate time. I was too nervous to actually be reading it.
And I watch the time tick by on my watch. An hour goes by, then another. Occasionally someone comes in and asks me questions in English and I politely answer them. Their questions were, “Why are you wanting to come into East Berlin? Who are you meeting? Where do you work? What do you do?”
Then they would leave and I would again be alone. I am grateful that we left early because it is approaching noon and I do not know if or when they will release me. After almost 4 hours of interrogation I am suddenly released. I walk calmly through and my friends are on the other side and by the look on their faces they are in sheer panic. They greet me warmly and then say how worried they were because people routinely disappeared because of the Stasi and were never seen again. They did not know what to do and if they should wait or go back across and get the West German police involved.
Relieved, we all get out of there as quickly as possible. We immediately go to Ghissy’s parents house and are warmly greeted. We unload all the goodies we brought to them and they are so very grateful for everything. Their house is sparse, just the basics. Many things are old and clearly have been passed down in the family. That is when he pulls back the sofa, rolls up the carpet and pulls up some floorboards. Inside the floorboards are rolled newspapers. He has clearly been collecting them for years and we take off our coats and disentangle the newspapers from the linings of our coats. Her father is so excited to see the papers, but he says he will read them later. It is the only way he knows about what is going on outside in the real world.
As he is putting the newspapers inside the floor, he says with a glimmer in his eyes that the newspapers are great insulation for the floors and the walls in the winter.
After taking tea with them, we are off to the Pergamon Museum. It was spectacular to behold. I wondered how all these incredible objects survived WWII. Chissy explained that amazingly the building while damaged was mostly intact and everything had begun to be restored immediately after the war.
There was just one small problem that became unnerving. Everywhere we went, every 45 minutes or so, someone would interrupt us and come up to me and ask me in perfect English, “Miss Wagner can I please see your passport and visa?”
I agreed amicably every time but as the day progressed and it continued it was clear that we were being followed and harassed. I was clearly not wanted in East Berlin. Even my friends saw that. We went over to the tower on the East side that they called, “The Popes Revenge”, it was a building erected to demonstrate the power of the GDR to the West. It was a tower with a steel sphere on top. Attached at the top was an antenna, but in the sunlight, it reflected a giant cross. Berliners nicknamed it, “Rache des Papstes”, or the Popes Revenge because the GDR removed all the crucifixes from the churches after the war. Berliners considered it a sign of a Divine Retaliation for such a heinous act.
We needed to pay to enter and take the elevator to the top so that we could see the amazing views. We get there and for some reason, there was a school outing happening with high school students. Instantly they come up to me and start asking me all about America. Here I thought I was looking so very German, but they knew that I was not German. They wanted to ask so many questions and it was a chance for them to practice their English.
Questions were often about what life in America was like. They wanted to know how hard it was for me to get a passport and how many countries I have visited. Then they wanted to know all about those countries and what they were like.
They were amazed how easy it was for me to get a passport and travel. For them it was very different.
I felt so badly for these courageous and expanding minds that were desperately hungry to know what life was like … outside these walls. They offered me apples to stay and talk with them. Their apples were full of worm holes and their clothing all looked the same. I could not imagine living in a world where my own individuality was not allowed to be expressed in what I wore or not having the freedom to travel when and where I wanted.
I stayed as long as I could without potentially making my situation more dangerous than it was.
Once we left the building, we continued to be harassed and it became so nerve-wracking that everyone decided to not go to the ballet.
I have never been so grateful as to have the chance to get out of East Berlin. I felt like I had a target on my back. The relief I felt just being back on West German soil was a revelation as to what the divided city had been through.
I felt grateful to be alive and to be an American. I vowed to never take this gift for granted and to share my stories so that others could remember that life is not the same everyone.
I got back to my house, exhausted from the emotional stress and strain and called my father.
I told him what had happened, and he leaped into the conversation saying, “What were you thinking? Are you insane? You can’t go to the East Block. You could have been killed or imprisoned!”

That is when I asked, “But dad! Why would they be concerned about me?”

That is when the phone went silent for a minute. That is when he finally explained who and what he was to the US and NATO. That is the moment that all the secrets began to make sense and I began to put all the pieces together.
It is an odd moment when you realize that your father is like James Bond. I suddenly realized why he loved all the spy movies so much. He was a man on a secret mission, and he was important enough that he was not allowed to go into the East Block. His daughter wanting to go see a museum was (in his words) an unjustified risk and something stupid!

I explained to him that if I had known all the facts I probably would have not gone. He said that I was not allowed to know all the facts. But now that I had done this … I would need to be better informed.
Many things changed in that moment. I realized that I was in a very tenuous place of safety and that many things could go wrong if I did not pay attention.
I realized; it was time to grow up. It was time to be more aware and it was time to recognize that many more things were going on under the surface at all times.
~Suzanne Wagner~