My grandfather’s escape from East Germany

Wednesday, March 7, 2018 // The Statement
4B
Wednesday, March 7, 2018 // The Statement 
5B

East to West

T

he year was 1960, and tear-
ing through the farmland 
on his motorcycle was my 
grandfather Helmut Krenz, 

age 20. A few hours later, he would be 
jailed in a cold East German prison cell, 
imprisoned because he tried to escape 
his authoritarian government.

Without the risks he would undertake 

in the coming months, my mother would 
have been born in East instead of West 
Germany, and likely would not have 
immigrated to the United States. I too 
would likely not enjoy the opportunities 
afforded to me today.
F

ollowing World War II, Ger-
many was split up “tempo-
rarily” by the four victorious 
Allied powers for the pur-

poses of rebuilding. However, the Soviet 
Union sought to permanently divide the 
country between East Germany and West 
Germany. Western soldiers looked east-
ward fearing another world war, while 
Communist forces along the border also 
looked eastward to prevent the state’s 
own citizens from fleeing to freedom.

While the West reaped the benefits of 

the Marshall Plan — United States aid to 
rebuild Europe after World War II — and 

a free market economy (what Germans 
still refer to as the “economic miracle”), 
the East regressed into a planned econ-
omy, the negative effects of which are 
still evident decades later. Those who 
lived in the East and had just been freed 
from the horrors of the Nazis and the 
Gestapo were again subjected to exploi-
tation and inhumane treatment at the 
hands of the East German secret police, 
the Stasi. Freedom of the press, religion, 
speech and travel were all severely cur-
tailed, and citizen’s felt as though they 
were constantly being watched.

Helmut’s formative years were spent 

in this geopolitical hotbed, less than 50 
miles from the Iron Curtain.
H

elmut was born in Ger-
many during World War 
II, but the Krenz family 
was forced by the Nazis 

to relocate to what is now Poland. In 
early 1945, caught between the enclos-
ing Soviets in the East and the Nazis in 
the West, they became refugees and fled 
through the brutally cold winter.

After months of running and living as 

refugees, the family returned and set-
tled on farmland in Warlitz, East Ger-
many, desperately hoping the worst was 

over. Helmut grew up working the farm, 
feeding the animals and enjoying rela-
tively peaceful childhood years.

However, he slowly became aware 

of the reality of the so-called German 
“Democratic” Republic. Indoctrination 
came first in the education system and 
he was forced to submit to Marxist-
Leninist ideology in his classes. He felt 
he couldn’t be open with his peers in 
school or question anything he learned, 
out of fear it would negatively affect his 
prospects for employment.

The absence of economic freedom and 

career mobility also contributed to the 
desire to escape. The government man-
dated that he stay and contribute as a 
farmer, but he knew he wanted to con-
tinue studying, obtain an education and 
be free to choose his own profession.

In addition to limits on his educa-

tional and career prospects, the East 
German state also actively persecuted 
those practicing religion, particularly 
Christians such as Helmut. The official 
position of the ruling Socialist Unity 
of Party of Germany was that Chris-
tian churches were foreign bodies and 
had no place in a socialist state, whose 
stated aim was an entirely atheist soci-

ety. Local church leaders were routinely 
arrested and imprisoned and felt like the 
Stasi was watching their every move.

Faced with these circumstances in 

his teenage years was the first time he 
had the yearning to leave the East. If cir-
cumstances allowed him to escape to the 
West, he would take the risk for freedom.
H

elmut’s first opportunity 
to escape arose shortly 
after he turned 20 in the 
fall of 1960. He would 

travel to Berlin on his motorcycle, then 
take the city tram in to meet up with fam-
ily friends and initially scout out the path 
to the West. However, once on the Ber-
lin train system, the East German police 
examined his passport and detained him.

He was taken to headquarters, locked 

in a prison cell and interrogated for 
hours. After this, the police confiscated 
his passport and told him he was no lon-
ger allowed to travel outside of his home-
town. For weeks the Stasi watched and 
periodically questioned him.

After seven weeks of this surveillance, 

he was called to the local police station 
in his hometown of Warlitz. The police 
chief brought him up to his office and 
initially appeared to be empathetic and 
compassionate — promising Helmut a 
good life if he subscribed to communist 
ideology and did as he was told. The chief 
even returned his passport, allowing him 
to once again freely travel throughout 
East Germany.

As the meeting was ending, however, 

the chief coldly looked Helmut in the 
eyes and said, “I give you one warning, if 
we catch you on the way to Berlin anoth-
er time, then 10 years imprisonment is 
sure for you.”

Helmut was stunned and frustrated 

— he was no criminal, he simply wanted 
freedom and a better life.
H

e would defy the govern-
ment’s 
stern 
warning 

when he left home with 
another would-be defec-

tor the day after Christmas in 1960. He 
made the difficult choice to leave his 
family behind, not knowing if he would 
ever see them again. He left with noth-
ing but the clothes on his back and a 
toothbrush; knowing if he carried any-
thing more, he would likely be stopped 
and questioned.

In order to not arouse suspicion, he 

first traveled to Leipzig, East Germa-

ny instead of going directly to Berlin, 
spending Christmas at a conference 
in the city to throw off anyone watch-
ing him as to his true intentions. On 
Dec. 26, 1960, he planned to connect to 
the central train station in East Berlin. 
Before the Berlin Wall was constructed 
in 1961, the trains in the city still ran 
between the East and West under heavy 
passport control once onboard the train. 
This was the way he would theoretically 
get to the West.

When setting out from Leipzig, the 

friend he was traveling with decided sec-
onds before boarding the train he would 
not attempt to escape given the immi-
nent danger. Helmut pleaded with him to 
come aboard the train, but the doors sud-
denly slammed shut — leaving him alone 
on his four-hour journey to Berlin.

Some people, especially Germans, are 

familiar with the story of a young Mar-
tin Luther, who, facing death during 
a lightning storm, pledged to become 
a monk if he was spared. Knowing his 
next stop could be prison, Helmut made 
a similar pledge: To serve God if granted 
his freedom against these insurmount-
able odds.

On the train, he found an open seat 

across from a high-ranking East German 
officer. When it came time to show pass-
ports, the border guards gave his only a 
quick once-over look, figuring any young 
man sitting near an officer surely did 
not need to be checked. An overwhelm-
ing sense of relief came over him at that 
moment, but he wasn’t safe yet.

Often times to their detriment, Ger-

mans are known for having a rigidly 
hierarchical view of authority (the VW 
emissions scandal is a perfect modern-
day example). Thankfully, the East Ger-
man hierarchy was alive and well on 
this day.

Once in Berlin, he quickly followed the 

dense crowds to the Berlin tram system. 
He had memorized the map and knew he 
had to get off at Gesundbrunnen, the sta-
tion in the West. He was scared to look at 
or speak with anyone on the train, fearing 
there were Stasi spies in the mix of com-
muters. It was highly unusual there was 
no passport control on the train that day, 
and when he reached Gesundbrunnen, he 
jumped out of the train to freedom.

“No one can describe what that feeling 

was like,” he said.
S

ince God held up his end of 
the bargain, Helmut stuck to 
his promise, eventually lead-
ing churches in West Germa-

ny, Switzerland and Sterling Heights, 
Michigan as a pastor. Many have come 
to Detroit seeking employment with 
one of the “Big Three” — Chrysler, Ford 
and General Motors — but he would joke 
with people and tell them he was in town 
to work for the “Big One” — God.

For Helmut, the so-called “American 

Dream” was never about wealth accumu-
lation or status, but simply the opportu-

nity this country presented. His family 
could live here in peace, free from gov-
ernment oversight, with access to great 
schools. The Krenz family enjoyed simi-
lar freedom and a good life in Switzer-
land, but Helmut and his wife Isolde felt 
it was time to move to Michigan for their 
children’s educational benefit.

Helmut’s family did not have much 

money and my mother, born in Erkelenz, 
West Germany, didn’t know any English 
after arriving in Michigan. When she 
began fifth grade during her first school 
year here, she could only read at a first 
grade level. But my grandfather would 
challenge them: “If other kids can do it, 
you can too.” By the end of that first year, 
she was ahead of the rest of the class 
and reading at an eighth grade level. No 
one in their family before them had a 
formal college education. Through hard 
work, my mother ended up receiving a 
full scholarship to attend Wayne State 
University.

In part because Helmut chose to leave 

everything he knew behind on that fate-
ful day in 1960, two of his children went 
on to receive doctorates, one became a 
concert pianist, and another helps run a 
business. I too have the opportunity to 
now attend the University of Michigan as 
a result.
I

n 2016, I had the opportunity to 
travel to Berlin and retrace my 
grandfather’s footsteps while 
studying abroad. The train still 

runs from the former East German cen-
tral station to Gesundbrunnen, the for-
mer station of liberation. As I sat there 
riding through the city on that sunny 
day, I thought about how blessed I am 
that Helmut took the risk of escaping.

When he was 20 in Berlin, he faced 

the prospect of at least a decade in 

prison to obtain freedom, while my trip 
was spent leisurely enjoying the city. He 
had to watch his back to ensure the Stasi 
didn’t tail him on the train; I simply had 
to use Google Maps to find the correct 
routes. He was forced to make life-defin-
ing decisions, I was faced with the choice 
of whether I should sample a local curry-
wurst or grab McDonald’s for lunch.

This stark generational contrast is 

thanks to the establishment of a free 
society in Germany. So often we take our 
liberty for granted, but we must remem-
ber it is a result of years of sacrifice and 
striving toward equality, individualism, 
representative government, peace and 
freedom for all. I will likely never have to 
risk my own life in order to secure these 
ideals for future generations, but we 
should be thankful many of our parents, 
grandparents and families did before us. 
Some escaped dictators, many fought in 
the armed forces to keep us safe, while 
countless others made daily sacrifices in 
order to send their children to college or 
move to a better neighborhood.

Sitting there in Berlin, I realized my 

grandfather’s story of oppression and 
journey to freedom influences the way I 
see the world today. My belief that Amer-
ica should welcome immigrants fleeing 
persecution, that individuals deserve to 
take home more of their own paychecks 
or that the size of government should be 
limited, are rooted in the abuses Helmut 
and countless others faced and still face 
at the hands of authoritarian regimes in 
North Korea, China, Venezuela, Russia 
and elsewhere around the world.
T

his year marks 28 years 
since the wall was torn 
down — the same number 
of years it was standing. 

Thankfully my grandfather was able 

to move through Berlin just months 
before the East German government 
shocked the world by constructing it 
overnight in 1961. He knows it wouldn’t 
have been possible for him to get out 
once the structure was in place.

In a recent conversation with him, I 

asked what his reaction was when the 
Berlin Wall fell and his home country 
was reunified in 1990.

He reiterated his belief that when-

ever a government attempts to stifle 
people, that institution will ultimately 
fail. The deep irony of East Germany’s 
attempted repression of religion is that 
the peaceful protest movement that 
eventually led to the toppling of the 
Berlin Wall began in churches.

Totalitarianism 
eventually 
fails 

and gives way to mankind’s inherent 
desire for self-government, but con-
scious strides must be made in order 
for this to happen. While leaders like 
U.S. President Ronald Reagan and 
General Secretary Mikhail Gorbachev 
of the Soviet Union set the pendulum 
of freedom into motion, the will and 
belief of the millions of people were 
eventually what pulled back the Iron 
Curtain.

As one of the millions of people 

who are fortunate enough to now 
reap the benefits of living in this 
free society, I feel an overwhelming 
sense of responsibility to continue to 
improve America as a beacon of hope 
and a land of opportunity for all peo-
ple. Only through open dialogue and 
mutual respect for one another can 
we prevent the re-emergence of the 
failed philosophies of the prior cen-
tury perpetrated in the Eastern bloc, 
experienced by my grandfather and 
countless others like him.

Courtesy of Caleb Chadwell

The Krenz Family in East Germany in 1948. Helmut is pictured front row, far right.

by Caleb Chadwell, Contributor

Courtesy of Caleb Chadwell

Gesundbrunnen Station in Berlin in 2016.

