Ghosts of Berlin, Part 2: The Berlin Wall

Original photo (see below) taken by George Garrigues in 1977. Transformed by Lavavoth to give it an atmospheric and isolated feeling.

Originally uploaded from Wiki Commons. Photographer unknown. I didn't have to do much to this photo except apply an adjustment layer and highlights to brighten up the graffiti (see original below).

Conrad Schumann and his famous jump into the French sector from East Berlin in 1961. Getting permission to use this image has been difficult thus far, so sadly I had to remove my digitally altered version (above) from my book.

Berlin Wall, February 2016 | Photo by Lavavoth | I took this photo of the Berlin Wall in February. Most of the wall is completely gone, but they left a section of it, along with an observation tower as a way to memorialize the place. There is also a small museum across the street.

Original photo from Wiki Commons.

George Garrigues's photo. Thank you, George, for granting me permission to use your photo in my book! If only all permission seeking were this smooth and easy.

I wandered the streets, unsettled by the postwar architecture, fully aware of why old Berlin no longer existed.

East Berlin, Germany. The Iron Curtain. The Stasi. Espionage. Hohenschönhausen. Death.

Not exactly a welcoming place to live under Soviet occupation. Strangely, when I first arrived in the city, I wasn’t particularly drawn to the Berlin Wall or postwar East Berlin. My focus remained on WWII. Still, I knew I had to visit the wall—especially since Hans was “insisting” I go.

I wandered the streets, unsettled by the postwar architecture, fully aware of why old Berlin no longer existed. I could feel history pressing in from every angle.

I’m still a novice when it comes to sensing the spirits around me. I can’t access the dead on command. It doesn’t arrive easily or reliably. And yet, when it does, it can feel more real than anything else—more vivid than what we call reality. When those moments fade, I feel a deep frustration, like losing a frequency I was just beginning to understand.

“She can see us!”

As I crossed the open field—once lined with dragon’s teeth and electric barbed wire—I began to see hazy figures slowly moving toward me.

When I saw the Berlin Wall in the distance, an unexplained force began to pull me toward it. I knew something paranormal was about to happen. I approached a monument displaying dozens of photographs—faces of those killed trying to escape East Berlin. I read each name, pausing at every image, trying to feel the presence of the dead.

A sudden wave of sorrow overtook me. The intensity nearly broke me. I stepped away from the crowd that had gathered nearby and walked toward an adjacent cemetery to steady myself, to breathe. As I crossed the open field—once lined with dragon’s teeth and electric barbed wire—I began to see hazy figures slowly moving toward me.

As soon as they sensed my attention, I “heard” one of them say, “She can see us!”

I focused on the field, trying to bring the figures into clearer view. When they finally began to take shape, I realized these weren’t victims of the Berlin Wall. They were German soldiers—spirits from the Battle of Berlin. It hadn’t even occurred to me that they might be here. Or maybe I just hadn’t had the space to consider it, overwhelmed as I was by the weight of the city.

Soldiers Running through the Streets

My mind’s eye became flooded with images of war. Buildings crumbling to dust, soldiers running through the streets. The images of chaos whizzed through my head, as I gazed at the ground. When I looked up, there were nothing but soldiers standing around. Although they kept their distance, some stared at me blankly, while others seemed to be reenacting past events–energetic imprints.

I spent about three hours at the wall and museum. From the observation area on the top of the museum that looks onto the field and the cemetery, I could still see the ghosts standing on the field.

For someone who sees spirits, I tend to be the most skeptical of these experiences. It’s easier to disbelieve and to just focus on the physical world. Then again, once you’ve seen the other side, it’s difficult going back to “normal.”

Shutting Down (for the Night)

As I made my way back to my Airbnb apartment in Kreuzberg, I could sense several of the field ghosts trailing close behind. Once inside, I lit candles and ran a bath. To protect myself, I cast a white shield of light around my body—a boundary to keep the spirits at bay and to halt any further encounters during the remainder of my stay in Berlin.

For now, I needed stillness. Not closure, perhaps, but a pause—just long enough to breathe without interference.