Our local Alabama Public Broadcasting Service, WLRH, came up with a brilliant idea. Since June 21, was the first day of summer, with the most sunlight of the year, they made a plan using this fact. Why not encourage all writers in the Tennessee Valley to submit contributions on the theme of “The Brightest Day?” Anything which employed that phrase was eligible. Selected writings would then be read aloud at a gathering on that special day at the planetarium of the Space and Rocket Center. Your winged reporter fluttered up and up the staircase at the planetarium. It was certainly worth it to hear our community’s excellent works of prose and poetry. On themes as varied as summer solstice in Finland, to a “God’s Wink” moment, to reflections on North Alabama in outer space and so much more, the writings were touching and engaging. This is one of them, titled, “The New Dawn of Liberty.”

The New Dawn of Liberty

We sat in the Netherlands, glued to the radio. The date was November 9, 1989. Something incredible was happening in East Berlin. We Americans and our NATO Allies were standing by, wondering what it all could mean.

East Germany had been under Soviet domination since World War II. They built a giant wall around West Berlin in 1961 in order to stem the flow of their people to the West and freedom. They put giant dogs, machine guns and landmines along the entire length of it. Our own President Kennedy summarized it best when he spoke at the Berlin Wall. He said, “We don’t need a wall to keep our people in!”

My family and I spent almost 12 years in Western Europe, where I was involved in counterespionage investigations against the communist secret services. Our life was lived on two levels. We enjoyed being a family and spending what free time we had together with our three growing boys. Under this veneer of normalcy, there lay the constant knowledge of casework, secret intrigues and spies. There was communism’s “Iron Curtain,” another wall of dogs and machine guns which cut all Europe in half, beyond which we could not travel. No one wanted an international incident. Communists kidnapped those who came too near. Our three boys were shown how to look for and report Soviet military liaison vehicles, a remnant of a Post World War II agreement which allowed them to inspect in West Germany. Our boys were also skilled to look for bombs under our cars, as political terrorism was also prevalent.

We’d read about spontaneous mass demonstrations breaking out in Leipzig, then Dresden, then even Berlin … all cities in East Germany. “Shame on you,” shouted thousands of demonstrating mothers and children, repeatedly pointing their fingers as they marched past the communist police. “We are the people!” cried the candle-carrying mothers as they marched past the dark chambers of the brooding secret police headquarters. Unseen cameras filmed the marchers, the easier to make later arrests. Yet, the people were no longer afraid. One grandmother scolded a policeman and said, “Get out of my way, young man. I remember teaching you better than that in school!” The St. Nicholas Church, Leipzig, East Germany, is where the marches started. It was there mothers finally had had enough of a nation of lies.

Each day I read reports of even more peaceful marches throughout East Germany. Each day they grew bigger and more intense. The paralyzing fear of the communist Stasi secret police no longer kept the people cowed and submissive. Each day the American Armed Forces Network relayed more astounding news until it finally happened. Nov. 9, 1989, the communist East German government gave in, and announced anyone could cross the border any time they wanted. The wall opened and floods of people entered a new world. We watched on Dutch television as thousands in rapturous joy poured through the opened wall. An entire continent burst into tears of happiness.

We immediately called our German friends in Mannheim, West Germany, where I was first stationed. In utter joy we celebrated, popping champagne corks over the phone, shouting “Einigheit, und Recht und Freiheit,” Unity, Justice and Freedom, the motto of what would soon become a united, free, democratic Germany.

Today some of our best friends are from the former communist-dominated Eastern Europe. Their children have even come here for Space Camp. We celebrate together as free people who met as a consequence of a new dawn of liberty, born on Nov. 9, 1989. Our long years in defense of freedom in Europe led to this brightest of days.