INTRODUCTION: ONE BERLIN
John Runnings, the Wall Walker, spent nine months in Berlin in 1986-87 campaigning against the Wall. This was to show that militarily imposed borders were vulnerable to political action.
He will return May 22, 1989 to arrive in Frankfurt at 1:50 P.M. on Pan Am #650 and leave Frankfurt at 5:00 P.M. to arrive at Tegel 6:00 P.M.
ONE BERLIN
During the summer in Berlin, Mr. Runnings expects to demonstrate the political potential of a battering ram. He will povoke the 18 month sentence in East Berlin promised him in February, 1987. This is to show how such a sentence would serve as a political beachhead to raise the issue of
ONE BERLIN
and to exemplify the means toward, the political integration of the earth. John Runnings presents this proposal to be entertained experimentally:
That an international political campaign be immediately launched across the militarily-imposed borders that divide the international states;
That international states now politically segregated by military imperatives be politically integrated to develop the preconditions for a universal civil legislature, universal civil courts, universal civil courts, universal civil police forces and universal civil penal systems for
UNIVERSAL CIVIL LAW
LETTERS
May 21/89
Dear Louise,
It is 5:25 and I am aboard the plane on the ground. We left at 11:30. Meg decided to go along so Bryan got her a kitchen chair to sit on, placing it back of and between the front seats. In the back of the van, he had a humungous bathtub, using Bryan's term, not secured in any way. I thought it was cast iron and I did not have much hope for Meg's survival if he had to stop suddenly. Bryan assured me that he had been driving it around the city for several days without any mishaps. It was a plastic tub, however, but as I watched him pumping the brake I saw I need not fear of him stopping suddenly. I began to wonder if he could stop at all! The steering was so loose that he appeared to do better than a well-trained sheepdog. I do wish he would get another vehicle.
I was 2 hours early, so I sent them home and I watched the planes take off from the place where they would land. Thinking of the planes I had boarded before, I was sure it could sneak up on me. But, there, down on the ground was a small plane with four props. I imagine it held about 50 people. We were soon above the clouds but for the most part there was a good view between the clouds. You might have liked this flight. We were flying over water most of the time with lots and lots of islands. We were so high we could just see the white wake of the marine craft. The boats themselves were invisible.
When we got to Vancouver, I couldn't see anything of Morgan or Kathy so I decided to see if they were to meet me on the flight concourse. After I checked to see how to get to the right gate, I went back to see if I could find them. Morgan hailed me carrying Ivy. The flight was in late so between one thing and another we had just enough time to say "Hello" and "Goodbye" before I had to leave.
We are now in the air looking down, way down, on the clouds. The sun is shining on the left wing. I had a thick piece of steak for supper as well as salad, orange juice, coffee and cake. It was quite good. Next to me I have a German who is going to visit his parents. He has been in Canada for five years. He was astonished and excited to find he was sitting by the Wall Walker. He read and reread my pamphlet giving me suggestions as to how I might contact the magazine "Der Spiegel". He felt that they would be interested in such a proposal.
The sun has been playing hide and seek over the edge of the wing for an hour. It doesn't act like a horizon at all. It is now 10:05 Seattle time. If the sun doesn't go down, how is it ever going to get to be tomorrow? I am a bit bewildered. I am having breakfast at 2:00 in the morning. I don't know how long I slept but I didn't have any "night". It seemed to me that if we go in the opposite direction of the sun we should fly into the night and then fly out in the morning but evidently we went around the night. The sun never went down.
We're in a bubble of blue and there is a stop over in Amsterdam. I got one of the staff to adjust my watch and there was a change of schedule and I failed to make the change in my brochure so I show that I get in 2 hours later than I do.
When I arrived in Frankfurt there was no media and when I arrived in Tegel, the Richters were not there yet. As I sat waiting for their arrival, a young man named Peter introduced himself as a photographer from "Reuters", the London World renowned press agency, who wanted to setup an appointment. Oover, like 'Hoover' but without the 'h', Ruth's son, came 1/2 hour late and took me past the old hotel which is now in the early stages of demolition. My old room at the top of the hotel has now no exterior wall.
He then took me to my apartment which was his also. It is an old building. The rooms are old with radiators but very comfortable. There is no place to write letters as there is no table and no 'pancake turner'. I don't think he used the housekeeping facilities all that much. Last night Oover went down to the imbiss and got us a donner kabop. Ruth showed me how to work the apartment and Oover showed me the importance of the lock on the door which was like something you would have on a bank. Ruth fastened the key to my belt loop with a stout nylon cord. Things are working out very well here indeed.
Things are working out very well here indeed.
I found the post office about 10 minutes walk. Oover had given me three numbers I might call if I needed him and also Ruth's number. When the emergency arrived I found there was a lock on the phone. I had no map to know which direction to take to get to the Museum where I could phone to tell Reuters where to find me. I took a taxi for 20 Marks.
I found a nice welcome there. The Museum had been expanded to the other end of the block into new quarters with a cafe. I was given croissants with coffee and assistance with the phone. Rainer Hildebrandt was called and he said I was to come to live at his house.
I was assured that while I was in Berlin I could eat free at the Museum restaurant. The dinner was very good then after I took the U-Bahn back to the apartment.
I am not going to tell you anymore except that my bed is very comfortable except it has no 'wife' in it.
Affectionately, John
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May 25/89
Dear Louise Ann,
I am writing from the Checkpoint Charlie Museum cafe. When I was here before, they had the building at the other end of the block. I am to be a guest of the Museum where I have a choice of 10, 7 Mark meals as well as anything else I might desire from an array of delicious deserts.
While I was waiting for Dr. Hildebrandt, I went for a walk along the Wall to Potsdamer Platz. Some persons have taken liberties with my part of the Wall and my messages are hardly readable. Dr. Hildebrandt has come and the place has filled with tourists. He got their attention and delivered a complimentary definition of me in German to which they dutifully clapped. Then there was a rash of people wanting to get my autograph and now I am alone again. Hildebrandt had other guests to deal with but he came back in about an hour to hear my proposals. He kept asking me, "How do you plan to illustrate your theory?" I wasn't sure just what he was after so in desperation I told him I was going to become an International paperboy and take copies of the principal publications into East Germany. I could tell that I had hit him where he lived. He said, "What a great idea! You will have to take the Green's publication, too!"
So I told him I needed to build a scaffold to paint my tile and he took me to a workshop I could use. He has written a book on the Wall in which he gave me a 2 page spread. He told me to take the book to the office and they would mail it home for me.
I am back in my apartment. Oover, the son and his mother, Ruth, are coming over this evening. I gather that he left home to be on his own. After he bought all kinds of nice things, they began to crowd in on him and he found living with "Mom" was not such a bad thing. He wasn't used to the apartment much, one of those serendipities that happen when you are in the right place at the right time. It probably takes me 20 minutes to get to Checkpoint Charlie on the U-Bahn. I like to be able to eat breakfast here but it's a strange place to try and prepare something to eat. There is no salt, pepper, sugar, pancake turner, flour, baking powder, or potatoes. I can cook a breakfast of eggs, toast, jam, yogurt, milk, tea or coffee. I have found a grocery store and I will go there and see if I can reorganize the options.
It is a beautiful day again today, this Thursday.
Lovingly, John
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May 25/89
Dear Dear,
Reuters and a photographer came but I gathered that my arrival in Berlin was not of international importance but I was to keep him in mind.
I ordered the material for the Wall painting trestle, it will be the third I have made. The East Germans like my trestles and have acquired the others. I was going to ask Dr. Hildebrandt where the lumber yard was but he was not in the office so I asked the man in the shop if he could help me? He was very helpful indeed. My needs are taken care of with a promptness that leaves me breathless. I think I told you yesterday that Rainer showed me a workshop in the building that he has tools for me to go ahead but the helpfulness of the attendant was an added surprise.
May 26/89
When I arrived at C.P.C. at 11:00 the matter had already been taken care of and I was shown where the materials were. A nice spacious court outside the shop. The tools I would need were delivered as fast as I could name them. They were very good tools. I had picked up a plasterboard screw like I used on the battering ram at home and so I knew they had them here. I was wondering how I would explain that kind of screw to these men who knew no English, when he produced a whole box of them just the right length. I took me about three hours to make the two trestles. I have them hid outside as the place is closed for the weekend. A freelance reporter stopped to ask what I planned and I said I would try to get some paint and start painting tomorrow. When I looked for the place where I got the paint last there was no sign in it. I have been looking for a paint store but there isn't any place in Berlin where they sell utilitarian things. It would be easier to buy a suit of armor than a pancake turner here.
I have been giving you the wrong address. It is Eisencher Stralze not Strasse. I have not been able to tell the difference. The U-Bahn station is called Eisencher Strasse and streets running both ways are Stralze.
May 27/89
Urie didn't come but I got the answer at the police station and herein lies a tale.
I had asked Dr. Hildebrandt about getting the scaffolding to Potsdamer Platz, 2/3 of a mile away. He said if I would wait until next week he would get someone to move it. This would leave me Saturday and Sunday twiddling my thumbs so I asked about getting into the building on Saturday to get my stuff and I was told the building would be closed. I took the scaffolding out of the nice secure court and into the fenced parking lot, putting it close to the fence where I could reach over and get it in the morning. The are was in view of the East Germans. Back in the flat I had irrational fears that the men in the tower might recognize me so I sent someone else to move my staging. When I woke at 5:30 the next morning I had my breakfast, toast and two large eggs. I took the U-Bahn back to C.P.C. where there were two trestles and two planks. They were where I had left them. I would have to make four trips. I had Anna's shoulder bag because I found whenever I got to my destination there was always something left that I wanted. I would solve that problem by collecting things in the shoulder bag. Well, this place was beside a one story Allied Command Building that had materialized since I was here. It was within spitting distance of the German police, so I stashed my shoulder bag to facilitate carrying one trestle. When I returned one of the Berlin police confronted me and said, "Mr. Runnings, we have your bag", and directed me to the police office. I was unable to find out why I was held. But after 15 minutes, one policeman became six or seven, some of whom hailed me, or greeted me like an old friend. Mostly they wanted to know how old I was and then I was let go.
When I was taking the second trestle, the East German police were out at the line taking pictures. They talked a good while with the West police across the line. When I had gotten the staging delivered I called a reporter/photographer, Peter Dolle, who asked me to call if I was to start something. He said he could be at P.D. Platz between 12:00 and 1:00, this was at about 10:00 A.M. I asked at the desk about a place to buy paint and she indicated a place where I had gotten paint in '86 and sure enough it was still there.
By 12:00 I had the staging against the Wall but the reporter had not arrived and I had not expected any challenge. I was prepared to fiddle around until the reporter came so I started cleaning off some wallpaper that someone had pasted over the lower part of my tiles. In doing so, I threw my arm over the Wall. Pretty soon there was a scraping of a metal ladder on the Wall and someone threw his leg over the Wall. He had an enormous camera. Another came and another instructed me on my violation of property rights and the urgent necessity of removing myself as quickly as possible, but still no reporter. Then the West Berlin police pulled up in the police van and I was told to leave but no effort was made to stop me from moving the staging to finish removing the wallpaper from the tile.
Later, I was starting to paint when the word came through to take me in. The police came out of the truck to the stage and asked me please would I come down. I said, "Since you say please the answer is no!" They continued to say 'please' and I continued to say 'no'. I said when I get painted as far as I could I would come down to move the staging and if they wished to arrest me, they could do so then and I would not resist. They waited and I came down. I said since I was co-operative that I would expect them to allow me to stash my staging so it wouldn't get taken by the DDR.
They balked at this until they assessed the problem of loading it in the van. I stashed it among some nettles and went to the police station. I was given a chair before a long table which had a T.V. with a game of tennis in it. The officer asked if I would like some coffee and I said yes. He got it and a cup for himself. Sitting down, he made some notes and asked me to write my name while he went away for awhile. When he came back he asked me what city I lived in in the USA? I aksed him what the difference between a Stralze and a Strasse was and he said they were interchangeable, they were the same, no difference. Then another policeman came and took me to the door and in effect said, "Shoo!"
Lovingly, John
P.S. Oh yes, the reporter did get there to take pictures but after the East Germans had disappeared behind the Wall. I did get to ask the East German police why, when they had let the West Germans cover their Wall with painting, that I was being discriminated against? But I got no answer.
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May 29/89
Dear Louise,
I have heard that I made a German newspaper with a picture. The police van stopped to tell me of another story without a picture. He said he would get me a copy and translate it for me. I was doing some more painting and Peter from Reuters was by and took some pictures of me on the staging. He was sorry I had not called him before I started so that he could have gotten the pictures of the East soldiers on the Wall. I had attracted no press at all except Peter recalled the last time I had painted it. I am getting quite a collection of press now. People would come down from the viewing stand and ask what I was intending to do with the surface I was creating. I would show them the message I wrote on the back of an envelope in which I kept my letters.
This suggested a large poster with the message on it for leafletting also a larger one with the message in German and English. As a title for the poster, I took my "Campaign for a world without military" poster to the shop and they had some poster material there.
Up in the office the secretary started to translate my message into German. Getting bogged down, he took it to Dr. Hildebrandt who also had a problem, so he called me. For civil law he wanted to put the equivalent of civil rights. In other words he was having trouble translating my message to sound like German peacenik jargon. After I explained that the way civil rights was used in America it wouldn't do at all. He then suggested Burger law and this seemed better to me. He changed "Homo sapiens" to something else and transposed the wording. I didn't want to offend him by telling him to leave it so I asked the secretary if he knew anyone who could do lettering. When he understood what I wanted he said, "Oh, we'll do that on the computer." He typed up the two messages in bold print and enlarged them and in no time we had it ready to put on the cardboard. I took it to the shop down three stories where they sprayed the back of them and stuck them all together. In the meantime I had gotten a call from the Axel Springer Verlag. They wanted to see me in the Museum's ccafe.
It is probably a good time to say what it is like, after years of pushing water to start planning, to move from being ignored to being the center of attention.....to having strangers hail you like you were a rich uncle. I have got to say it is very pleasant indeed. It is quite a bit like falling in love or having a correction done on your glasses. Before when I was hungry, I could look at food and not see anything I really wanted to eat. Now everything looks so good, I can't make my mind up which to choose.
It is about a five minute walk to the U-Bahn station and C.P.C. is about six stops away and one minute between stops. The C.P.C. does not open onto the street. All the traffic is channeled by the reception area where you can buy C.P.C. books on the Wall. So far when I enter the cafe the staff come over and shake my hand but do not engage me in conversation. I look over the array of pastries and select something. I take a teapot, cup and teabag, and in pouring the hot water from the tap find scalding water rushing out. By the time the pot is full, it is mostly steam.
I look out onto Friedrichstrasse where a group of tourists are streaming into the Museum. This will go on periodically all day. There are about 10 tables in the cafe so it is seldom crowded. There are camera shops and such between the old C.P.C. office where hordes of visitors still pour through. The building is five stories high and a short block long.
I bought a folding ruler which seems to be the only kind the Berliners know about. I measured the tile at the top of the Wall (2 meters and 100 centimeters) and I have two tiles for my message. My bedroom is one meter and 100 centimeters long. This is where I plan to lay out my letters to see how they will be arranged. It is now 6:30 A.M. and I will wash out some clothes and make some toast.
May 30/89
(There was a nice wild thunderstorm but it is over now.) My smaller lettering is too big so I will have the office reduce it tomorrow. I was doing the preliminary work to setup my lettering when the East German soldiers came to challenge my invasion of the DDR territory. Evidently, it was the same memorized speech he spoke on Friday. One of them straddled the Wall again and took pictures. Then the spokesman came right opposite me and gave his piece. I asked him why he didn't shoot me and if they would send their vehicle around, I would help arrest me. He evidently had no reply for this. I do wish someone would offer to be my press agent again. I could be twice as effective.
I will be leaving here as soon as it can be arranged. Orie is generally a bit of an old woman but I woke last night to hear someone banging about. I found Orie in the kitchen very distressed because I had put on the kettle for a bath and had then gone to bed forgetting to turn off the kettle. Had I put hot water at the tap it wouldn't have happened. Something eludes me that I wanted to tell you. A couple from California interviewed me today for a little paper there.
Lovingly, John
P.S. I asked the freelance reporter/photographer about being my press agent. He said we would talk about it. He is German and his English is rudimentary but I am desperate.
I am moving out today. After I burnt his pot, Oover has turned off the stove so that I don't have hot water to shave or for a sponge bath. I told him I was moving out. But evidently I cannot leave soon enough.
Oover's mother had worked at the Stuttgarter Hoff. I sent her $300.00 to get me accomodations with a phone. Oover's apartment was not being used so they let me use it but shut the hot water off and put a padlock on the phone. I saw I was being had so Hildebrandt is letting me use the Museum.
May 31/89
Oh yes, I got your account of Morgan's birthday party today which was nice. Ivy, like may other intelligent children, and her grandfather....knows that authority can be manipulated best when there are lots of people looking on.
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June 1/89
Dear Well Beloved,
Things get better and better. I have a couple of acres of space at the top of the Museum. The area is in the process of being renovated. The room designated for me has a daybed, daveno, table and a number of chairs. Several rooms away there is a tub but so far no hot water. I was to have heated up the water for my bath on the gas stove but it isn't working yet either. There is a basin with a 5 litre water heater and this did work and so I had a bath for the first time since I left.
Hildebrandt said earlier that I could stay at his place but it was a long way away. The help here are very accomodating and I understand it is to cost me nothing. The second in command in the office is called Hans, I asked him about building the battering ram. I told him it would involve buying a car. He first thought that I was suggesting that the Museum would provide the car but when I explained that I would buy the car he called the shop about building the ram. He said a car will cost between 500 and 1000 Marks. I sold my dollars for 1.95 Marks, so that is well within my ability. The ram will be available to anyone or any group who will demand the penalties for its use against the Wall.
I went to Potsdamer Platz again today and finished painting the word campaign in 6" letters and finished painting the tiles white. The East Germans have given up ordering me off but guards watch me from a distance.
Yesterday an old fellow with a decided British accent came up on an elderly motorcycle while I was showing someone else what I was going to write on the Walll. He said, "I say, old chap, could I have a look at that?" Then he introduced himself, "I'm from the Daily Telegrawf. We are interested in you."
We made up the poster I told you about. The man in the shop made pockets on it for my panphlets and the rate at which they were picked up was encouraging. They had all been printed on Hans' machine for free. They are also being picked up from the desk by the Axel patrons. I look out (or down) onto the street from casement windows and from where I sit I can see 6 building cranes, one is servicing a building going up across the street. Decorating the front of my book of the history of my campaigns with pictures of the family was a great idea, it is fun to look at your faces as I write.
I saw some candies while I was in one of the concessions at Potsdammer Platz when I was asking for a place to store my poster. They looked like butterscotch. When I offered to pay he said, "No! Take them!" This is the way things are here. I can't believe it.
June 2nd. or 3rd.
The shop attendant got the stove going so that I could heat bath water. He gave me two large buckets to heat the water but the tub is so long it would take several heatings to give a decent bath. The water heater for the tub is coal fired when in operation and there are several coal fired heaters. I fancy they will convert them before they are rentable. I went to Potsdammer but it started to rain so I came back and inquired for the bank and the post office here. I want to get enough money to buy a vehicle and the materials for the battering ram. I slept last night at the former flat as there are no bed clothes here yet. There are pillows and the pad Europeans use for covers but these have to be covered and I need a sheet.
Warmly, John
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June 3, 1989
Dear Louise Ann,
I went to Oover's apartment to see if there was any mail but there wasn't. I don't think I told you that I wrote to Carine Venneman and I received a reply from her saying that her parents would be vacationing in Spain until June 28th. I tried to call her this evening but she wasn't at home.
I called on John Wessikowski who befriended me in 1986. He has two grown daughters. His hospitality was as warm as ever. In a trice he had the paper I needed. It had an excellent picture of me starting the first letter of the statement that I am printing on the Wall. I'll enclose a copy.
It was cold here today. With two sweaters and the plaid shirt I was less than comfortable. I made three more words on my statement and they are still picking up my leaflets. It was real cozy to get back to the cafe and have a hot cup of tea and a pastry. I tried the tub again tonight with more water and it was a little more satisfactory.
June 4/89
It is cold and overcast today but the rain has stopped. I want to go to the bank and get money for the battering ram. I will then start building and have the media come and take some pictures. Some auto yard might get carried away and donate a car. I think I will go full speed ahead and paint and letter the three Wall tiles I have. When I get them finished I will give myself up to the DDR for punishment. The battering ram will be for the use of anyone who will invite the penalties for using it but I will have to set the example. If they deport me I will return on the next flight for my news boy bit. It looks like a great summer.
Warmly, John
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June 5, 1989
I received $500.00 from the Berliner and ordered the lumber for the ram. I went to the library and picked out a book by Nathanial Hawthorn. I didn't have my passport on me so I wasn't able to bring it home. I am to meet Ralph Succo who took the picture for the Volksblatt. I asked him if he would like to be my news agent and we were to talk about it tonight. He didn't come so I will close this letter and go to bed.
Lovingly, John
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June 7/89
Dear Louise,
I went yesterday to continue the lettering on the Wall but someone had taken my black paint that I thought I had disguised as litter. I had laying out to do so I just lost the paint.
The East Germans sent out a single sentry on a motorcycle to keep an eye on me. I went looking for the plywood place and I found a blacksmith shop. I put in an order for the 8 bolts that I will need to hold my ram together. When I returned to pick them up, the owner's wife, all smiles, said they were to be a gift. I have the holes already spotted.
I'm hungry, it's 8:10 and they won't have the food out 'til half past. I went down 90 steps and when the attendant in the cafe saw me at the door, he jumped to unlock it. I got myself a croissant and a lemon twist. I had two pots of tea and then went to the drugstore that had paint and tools and bought more paint. I arranged with the Museum photographer to take pictures of my drilling the holes for the bolts. It is now 9:52 and the shop opens at 10:00.
June 10/89, Saturday, I lost another day somewhere.
I think it was Thursday. Anyway I went yesterday to paint letters on the second line. Half the top line had to be redrawn because I missed the third "L" in militarily. Yesterday a little woman came to tell me I had missed an "L" in political. I had just finished "integration" that followed. The viewing stand was full of people all the time. The black paint dries very fast and I went to get the white paint and brush to paint it out, when I discovered that whoever took my paint also took my brush. I came back to the Museum and worked a little on my ram. I am making contact with people but nobody is offering themselves to the East Germans.
I have a promise that the shop will be opened for me shortly after 8:00 by a waiter of the cafe. It is usually closed on Saturday. It is now 7:20 and the carpenters are out there banging away across the street. They evidently work 6 days a week. I wonder sometimes if they get overtime.
Sunday, June 11/89
Yesteray I had my second confrontations with the Allied Command. I started on my battering ram early and everything went very well. I had the holes spotted and I bought a nice new shape drill. By noon I had all the bolts in place and tightened up. The material has a heavy bull nose and the finished product looks very good indeed.
While I was having a break in the cafe with some pastry and a cup of tea, a German introduced himself. He could speak no English but wanted to take pictures of me at Potsdammer Platz. So it was arranged. When I got there I found he had a video camera and so I set up my staging and started lettering on my tiles. The military pulled up in a van, stopped and asked me to come down. I said, "No!", so they stayed there and I kept lettering. The stage is full, or rather the viewing platform, I am on the stage. People who are walking by the Wall stop to see what is going on. I am trying with little success to keep my brush within the lettering lines. It is alright to put on a bold front but your hand knows differently. Eventually I ran out of work I could do at that location. I struck a relaxed pose and someone handed me a can of beer. There were shutters going all around. The police (from the British section) were gathering up my stuff and from both trestles they snatched my things. I asked them what they were going to do and they said that I was to be detained. I was turned over to the city police. I debated whether to continue the standoff or take a ride in the police car and decided on the latter.
The end of it was that the West Berlin police took my staging and left me with everything else. I came back to the Museum and started building another staging. I think my man had plenty of opportunity to get good pictures. Police are the best publicity agents! I was given the key to the shop for the weekend and I now have a new set of staging trestles. They are much stouter than the others so consequently they are heavier. I have a problem of getting them to the site. I painted them green, a very fortunate shade of green as they will blend very well with the foilage behind the concession building. I have made the pattern for the iron for my ram and I will order it tomorrow. I am exploring the possibility of making a press event of my returning to the Wall with my new staging.
Warmly, John
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June 11/89
Dear Dear,
When I was in the office to get this done up, the secretary handed me your letter. What a nice letter. I will read it again and again. The press has been missing most of my confrontations with the police. This morning at 5:10, I came awake with the proposition that I should make a press event of my returning to the Wall with my new staging. When I went to Hans at the office, he asked me to wait one moment as he was doing 6 different things. Shortly he got to work on the computer with my statement to the press, T.V., Allied Command, the GDR ministries, the foreign office and didn't come up for air 'til two hours later. He sent me out of the office with everything done but the signing, folding, stuffing and stamping. I should be able to get it all to the post office this afternoon.
It must wait while I got back to the cafe, it was noon so I had a large bowl of soup. I then took the doubledecker bus back to the lumberyard. I bought my two sticks and a driver was detailed to take the big flatbed truck, pick up the plywood at the plywood place and deliver it to Checkpoint Charlie. I paid for it, a wood chisel and five lags to fasten the iron. With the many tools at my disposal, I performed on the nose of the battering ram and it fit like a glove. It was so tight we had to drive it on with the back of an axe. Michael, the shop attendant, hovered around trying to be more helpful.
There seems to be a very friendly relationship among the help and nobody appears to work on a steady basis. Well that isn't quite so! Anyway there is Tony, I don't think he is Italian, he has brown, curly hair down to his shoulders with pink and green curls blending in. (lovely shades) He understands a fair amount of English so one day I asked Cotty, the girl at the desk, for him. She explained, "Today is cray today". Anyway I had been apprehensive about the time when I would have to broach the subject of the car. A car as you can well appreciate, involves more than price. It has to be parked some place and since I have no land, it will have to be parked on someone else's place. There are parking places back of the Museum but they all have neatly painted names on them. Tony sees my battering ram, it really does look good, and I think he has fallen in love with it. He wants to take me out to look for a car tomorrow morning. I will have him come up to the office and clear these things with Dr. Hildebrandt.
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June 12/89
I am sorry to say the day was so full that I haven't gotten around to thinking of you until now. Manfred Tucke, the owner of the lumberyard, had told me where to get the plywood and said they would deliver but to let him know and he would deliver it for me. Today I went to the lumberyard for the plywood for the car rack and the sides of the ram hanger. I ordered it and on the way back picked up the iron at the blacksmith shop. I came back, had breakfast, went to the lumberyard for sticks for the sides of the car rack and to see if Manfred could deliver the plywood for me. I had 150 Marks in my purse which I thought would easily cover the price of the plywood and the iron. I went down into the basement shop where the plywood was stored and cut. The shapes and sizes were not at all like we have in America. The plywood is strips of wood glued together with veneer on each side. When Germans buy a subfloor, it is strips glued together without the veneer. There is nothing like shop-grade plywood or plywood good on one side. To my astonishment, the plywood cost 213 Marks alone, which is over $100.00...so I went to pick up my iron. As they had intended to give it to me, they had put a kid on it. He was having trouble and was very unhappy. Actually, he had not done too badly. He had the makings of a perfectionist. I saw that the mistake could be corrected by a modification to the wood and I told him so. While he was making his corrections and making holes, etc., I was invited into the office where Hannelore, the owner's wife, served me coffee and entertained me by encouraging me to talk about myself. She translated what I said to her to the bookkeeper.
I had made a mistake earlier on the lettering on the Wall and had to go back with white paint. I had been working over the drawn outline of letters and had the word 'integration' painted up to the 'A'. When I got to Potsdammer Platz with all the reporters there, I found I had forgotten my letters in my room. I got my staging in place with cameras clicking all around. I discovered that ION were neatly drawn in place and all I had to do was entertain the press for a few minutes. I would finish out the word 'integration'. When I got the word finished, a girl came up and said, "You left out the second 'T' in 'integration!' It was like being caught with my pants down. I went methodically and got some white paint and painted out the unwanted lettering. The Military police had long since gone. It was the best day since my wedding. When the police came all the people who were acquaintances became friends and my case was argued in fluent German. I didn't have to say a thing. (Well, I can't say it all, dear.)
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June 15/89 (I lost another day somewhere!)
I took the matter of parking up with Hans and he made light of the problem. There were three spaces. Tony turned up at last. He expected he would take me to a car lot to look around at the cars. He looked at the Pinto in the picture and then made all the arrangements over the phone. He tried to explain in very limited English, the difficulties of buying a car in Germany. I told him to buy the car in his name as I planned to give it to the West Berliners and he might as well be the recipient. In the process of examining the German calendar (which I don't like at all) I mentioned your birthday. This caused him distress. Had I called you? If not, call now. I found myself negligent and in defense I mentioned that I had sent you a gift. I was confused in trying to understand what he was trying to convey, so he called Christina in the office. She has pretty good English so he had her explain that he had missed an opportunity to send you a gift. I am going to the bank this morning to get $1,000.00 which should cover the cost of getting a car in Germany.
Last night I was working out the problem of arranging to buy the car and be at the tour stop at Potsdammer at 2:00. This was at 9:30 P.M. I had hoped to get someone to convey the staging as the new staging is stouter than the one the British took. I had rather hoped that we might have the new car to take it over. Rather than chance it, I carried the two trestles down last night, and this morning I took one of the planks. It is now 8:02 and I will be able to satisfy my hunger in 25 minutes.
The iron men are hard at work on the building across the street and according to the picture they must be on the final story. What a day it has been! Tony asked me to get the money for the car by 10:00 and although I was 10 minutes early, he was 1 and 1/2 hours late. When he came he said the police were in the court looking at my battering ram. We had a press photographer on the premises and Tony is on the phone to the media because it is evident that the police are going to seize my Ram. As you know I am not here to build a battering ram. I am here to make "headlines" and the police were obliging me. In a trice there was another reporter and then more police came to take the Ram away. I grabbed it and they pulled me off. The reporter got a picture of me struggling with the police and screaming. A big "Morgen Post" man was there, I think in response to my lettering at Potsdammer Platz. He was in a business suit and had no camera. He did not interview me but I understood that he was to see me lettering. I was surprised because my press release was mainly to let the press know that the Allied Command was taking my staging. I thought there might have been one newsman.
There was one plank to be carried to the site and a photographer helped me with this. When we got to the place the military police were already there parked some distance away. The place was alive with reporters and photographers. I counted 12 on the ground and I don't know how many were on the stand. Several climbed my staging to take pictures of me and the Wall, others took video from a 10 foot step ladder, I smiled my face off. One of them was from a famous city in West Germany responding to my international mailing. The Englishman from the Telegraph was there with a group of youngsters.
Before the battering ram episode, I was in the cafe and it was crowded. Hildebrandt came in as he does periodically and decided to introduce me. He gets the book open to my picture and starts the spiel. When he was done, I bowed and I got a nice hand. Group after group posed with me for pictures and I got to hugging any number of females. After that there was a spate of persons who wanted the book autographed. I went back to the Museum, up to the office to see if the translation was done. It was and it cost 400 DM. I had a message I wanted to give to Hildebrandt. He was in, so I was invited to sit down. He was very pleased with my account of the effort at Potsdamer Platz but lamented that I had not been secretive enough about my Ram, "Now you will not be able to do it." I argued that nothing could have been more fortunate because we will be able to get headlines trying to get it back. We can go ahead and finish the rest of it and the press will love it. The Wall Walker in a scrape with the police! Hildebrandt saw the point and was pleased.
I think when I wrote you last we were in the process of buying a car. I had arrangements with Tony to meet me at the cafe at 10:00 o'clock but Tony didn't get there 'til 11:30. He told me the police were looking at my ram and were planning to take it away. I went to the courtyard and a policeman was guarding the ram and another was taking measurements. He asked me what it was for. So I straddled it and with a stick made rowing motions. There is a press agent for the Museum and he was on hand. Tony got on the phone and Museum principals started gathering around and offering advice. I am sure I have already told you about this but I got such a great turnout of media! I get a chuckle when I read the statement of my own temerity. In case you are wondering what letter I got, it was dated June 5th.
Affectionately, John
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June 18/89, 6:30 A.M.
Dear,
I am in a sweat to get working on the mounting structure for my Ram. I got a lot of favorable publicity from the two news events of the one day. It is Sunday morning, there is to be a celebration today for a revolt in the DDR that took place in 1953.
I have just been handed a roomate whose name is Andre and he wants to learn English as badly as I want to learn German. It is great! The "Open Sesame" to the German language.
Yesterday morning, I was working in the shop when Yense from the kitchen came with the another man. They beckoned me to the parking lot out back and there was the most beautiful car (from a ram-maker's point of view). It is a Ford, longer than the Pinto and "fire engine" red. It had a long flat roof for the Ram base, I was absolutely delighted! I asked him if the wheels went round and he took me out to show me they did. It only cost 1000 DM!
Monday:
I'm working on the car rack and the hanger. I went to Potsdammer Platz to paint out the word "destroy" as I thought "abolish militaryily-imposed" would be better. A Dutchman asked me to give an interview on this tape machine for this radio program. An engineer from East Berlin who had done engineering in the U.S. and in Arabia, told me how "positive" my breaking of the Wall had struck him seeing it on T.V. Then I came home and worked some more on the supports until an old lady stuck her head out the window and tried to convey something in German. From the sound of her voice, I didn't think she was telling me what a nice job I was doing. The courtyard where I am working has back bedroom windows for 5 floors on three sides and a 12 foot high wall on the fourth side. I fancy they know I'm down there. As it was near 9:00 I decided to quit.
June 20:
I worked on the hanger for my ram yesterday morning. I have got the car rack finished but I needed bolts so I took the U-Bahn, to Hallesches Tor in one stop. The place was closed for Monday, like the barber shop in Seattle. On the way back I stopped in the office of the friendly iron people and told them that their iron and bolts were in jail. They knew more about it than I did. Someone had read in the paper that the battering ram would be available to me after the 17th. I saw where I could flex my political muscles, so I said, "If they wait 'til I come pick it up, they will wait a long time. The police took it away and the police can bring it back. I'd build another one if necessary." This was received with enthusiastic noises of approval. I'll finish it out and we will parade the empty hanger around town.
I came back and had rice and fish at the cafe. I went to the One Stop at Hallescher's for sunglasses (the others were stolen) and along the Wall back to my painting. The Wall is a good example of man without law. Hardly a piece of artwork is finished before someone is spray painting graffitti on it. There was a large 10' x 20' foot painting on the Wall at the foot at Wilhelm Str. when I left in '86 and now no part of it can be seen. I can expect at anytime to have my work vandalized. Whoever it was that found where I hid my supplies took the lid off the red paint and tried to throw the paint onto the tile that hasn't been lettered yet.
They weren't quite successful and ended up just splattering it a bit.
I went with Andre last night to a cabaret where a slip of a girl in bare feet performed on a guitar and sang. There were also two young men who sang comedy songs and played the guitar. I enjoyed it and Andre's company. We were early so we ordered a beer and the waiter said to me, "Say, haven't I seen you before? Was it in the newspaper?" Then in the audience someone was drawing attention to me. Andre seemed to be enjoying himself very much. It is now 6:59 A.M. and the ironmen are on the job.
Anyway, today, June 21, I got the fastenings for my ram and went to paint lettering on the tiles. The city police came and looked on. When I was picking up the British Allied Command M.P.s came and grabbed the last trestle and took it to the van. I quickly ran and grabbed it back again but they followed me. They said they were going to take it all whether I liked it or not. I said "If you take it, you'll have to take me." I helped them take the stuff to the van but they just wanted the trestles. I sat on them and we argued the matter until in the end they let me have them back.
Hildebrandt explained to me that he had a senator who could get my ram back if I would promise that it would be used solely in a symbolic way. I told him I could give no such assurances and while we were talking and I was having supper, the girl at the desk handed me your letter. I liked your idea of using the bank statement as stationery. It will help the historians. I can see where we will have stewed tomatoes next winter. You'll have the whole yard a garden by the time I get home. Yes, rasberries are nice but in someone else's yard. Well, I'm going to let this letter go.
Affectionately, John
P.S. Building the ram before I left was such a good idea!
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June 24/89
Dear Louise,
It was a bad day. I lost a day somewhere. I went to the copy shop to leave my translated manuscript of my "One Berlin" and it was closed. The man who had the key for the Museum shop wasn't available. I had arranged with a news photographer to take pictures of the last words of my statement in English on my tile on top of the Wall.
While he was there, someone came to tell me that there were two i's in civil. There was just no way to make room for another i without moving the rest of the sentence, 'law and a world without a military' so I came home and had something to eat and I lay down and had a snooze. Life seems liveable again.
I have the rack on the car (I didn't notice at first but it's a 4-door). I have the hanger for the ram partly assembled and since the police thought they had stopped operations by taking the Ram they wrote a letter to Hans that it appeared that I was building another Ram and they wanted me to know that it would be confiscated too.
Hans had letters typed up ready for me to sign. One from the police to show that I had read it and another, an application for the return of the Ram with a promise that I would not use it in any destructive way. I knew that it was the promise and not the Ram the police wanted. They are not going to get it. We wrote a letter that what I was making would carry a message. As I drove about the city I was not making another battering ram.
I have said that when you put a politician in jail you give him a platform. It is the same when you put a political battering ram in jail. You give it a platform. I think it is a lot more fun to have the battering ram in jail than me. I intend to parade the fact that my battering ram is in jail and eventually I will go to the police station and demand the return of my property that was forcefully taken from me without my being charged with any crime, and without explanation or compensation. If it is not returned I will make a news event by a "sit-in" and hunger strike.
I didn't think I told you about my last contest with the British Allied Command. I was painting the lettering again, the day after the news event and a group of city police were there but they didn't bother me. After they were gone the British military policy came as I was putting my things away. When I came back for the last trestle it was gone. I saw it lying beside the police ban so I ran and picked it up. They followed me and said they were going to take my staging whether I liked it or not. I said that if they took it they would have to take me too. So we took the staging to the van. The English officer said that if I was to go with them I would have to ride in the city police car (which had just pulled up). I knew that as soon as I left they would take my staging. So I said, "You will have to arrange that." Then we had a contest of wills. I sat on my staging and argued my case and made it very clear that they would not get it without a physical contest. Then this representative of the British commonwealth asked me to consider his position! He was under orders! This gave me the opening I needed and I told him I was not blaming him, that he was only doing a job, but that I could not allow myself to be robbed of my property to accomodate him. In the end he gave in and I was allowed to keep my property. Today as the British M.P.s were driving by, I heard one of them say, "Good morning, Mr. Runnings."
I think I can say that I have faced down the DDR (who don't bother me anymore), the British M.P.s and now I have to face down the city police. I am not fooling myself, it is not going to be easy or quick but it will be newsy.
I think Hans and Christina are getting to feel the spirit of the thing. Christina took me to the copy shop they use and introduced me to the manager. I wanted to get a better picture of the ram in my new pamphlet and I was unsuccessful. The manager flew from one machine to another and turned out a bushel of trial sheets but nothing worked so I will stick to the one I have.
Thankyou for the news clips on Gorbachev. Like a good politician he writes off as unimportant the problems he can't do anything about. His stated goal is to eliminate nuclear weapons and return to the happy carefree and warfree days before WW2. No, I don't think my importance here has diminished at all by Gorbachev's visit. Nobody is asking me for my opinions. Nobody is taking me out to dinner. I think Dr. Hildebrandt, Christina and Hans have an interest in me beyond the fact that I am a tourist attraction.
June 25,
I asked Yense if I could have the key to the shop on Sunday and I got a good half day in on my ram hanger. It is painted one coat. The shop has plenty of rope for hanging the ram on it and it is black so we will have to paint it scarlet. We need the cleats to secure it with. I will also put an outrider on it with a handle on the top of the sign so that a person could ride or arrange sandbags. I have also added a wall so that the sandbags cannot slide forward. I think I can now start developing the material for the campaign. I will do like I did in Seattle, pass out leaflets for 6 weeks before the action.
It is a lovely evening and I have a balcony off one of the rooms. Some boys were enjoying a large ice cream cone and I thought, "Say, I'd like to do that", so I went down the ninety steps and it was a good idea.
As I came up I looked out on my car with the new rack and the ram hanger finished except for the lettering and it is a great joy. Building the ram had been such a dreamy proposition, when I started thinking about it. I was right. A battering ram in Berlin by its very presence would shake the place up.
June 26,
There was lightning flashing in the northwest and a black cloud. I thought, "Oh great! We are having an old fashioned thunderstorm coming up." I went out on the balcony and I watched that cloud for an hour and a half and it lightninged and rumbled gently but never moved. We had a little splatter of rain after a while that wouldn't even dampen down your hair.
I had a fairly good day. I received my German copy printed at last. But what a cost! $400 DM for translation and $550 DM for four thousand copies.
I am getting the material ready for my campaign. A movie outfit wants to take pictures of my car when I have it decorated next week. No money in it of course.
I went to Hans to ask how you wrote Innocent Battering Ram in jail. Hoping that innocent would be a short little word, four or five letters. Instead it is "unschuldiger". Battering Ram is "Rammbock" and jail is "Gefangnis".
June 28,
It is cold and wet outside. Yesterday, I did lettering on the sign boards of the battering ram hanger, and finished the outriders and painted. There is a handle for the top of the sign for the outrider to hang onto. That is still to be made. The sign in German says, "Innocent Battering Ram is in jail". I scanned the faces of those who read this and I was picking up some clues that all is not as it seems.
Yesterday afternoon I got a real shock when Hans came to say that Dr. Hildebrandt, who is at the hospital for an operation, said that my proposition to do a hunger strike just for the return of a battering ram would not be understood. People would think I was crazy and that it would not be understood. People would think I was crazy and that it would not be understood. People would think I was crazy and that it would embarrass him with the government to which he looked for support at last. So a crisis is clearly developing. I may have to leave this pleasant Shangri La and live on a park bench. So I leave you in suspense until the next installment and get this away with the letter to David Gordon.
Lovingly, John
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June 30/89
Dear Louise,
It was a beautiful day. One of the regulars in the kitchen hailed me for first dibs on the stamp on your letter. So you have garden problems,too! Even with the green thumb, there is no good place for gardening in our yard. Yes, things have been going very well for me. I haven't seen Dr. Hildebrandt yet but Hans set up the statement for the master copy in English and German. I altered it to make it more acceptable to Dr. Hildebrandt. I said I would do or attend a continuous political occupation of the police station. This shouldn't be hard as there will be nothing they can do but arrest me, thus assist me in the occupation.
I have the battering ram as complete as I can have it until after a successful confrontation with the police department. The building of it was a great pleasure and is still a source of great satisfaction. There is just a wire fence between it and the Allied Command, the city police and one of the viewing platforms.
When I left I neglected to pack my dress shoes, the high heeled ones are not good for walking and the comfortable ones are getting disreputable.
Now Michael has given me to understand if I need anything in the shop to just take it. So I rummaged through the paint this morning to find some paint to do my shoes. I found some greyish black paint with a label that might say acrylic and another glossy. As I started applying it, it did not spread right and I wasn't sure if it was paint at all. German paints dry almost as you put them on and this wasn't drying. It was too late to back up now so I covered them with this goo. When I got back after an errand to the copy shop, they were dry and shiny black. They sure look better than what they did.
July 1/89:
It was another good day, warm with light sunshine. I painted out the rest of the sentence, traced the letters and finished the statement in English on the Wall. The person who has been meddling with my stuff found my brushes and took them so I had to do it with a little brush I had bought since. It was good to have finished. The police were around to look at my signs on the battering ram. I had some pictures of the ruckus caused in taking my ram enlarged at the copy shop. They weren't too flattering of the police. I included them on the sign. Michael insisted that they be put on with clear sticky plastic you use for covering books. Anyway the police got together with Dr. Hildebrandt and said the pictures must come down. I will insist on a court order as I don't know if the police are within their rights.
I was exhausted when I got back from Potsdammer and Christina had a phone call from Carine in Belgium. the only place I could put in a long distance call is from the desk at the cafe. I waited until things quieted down but got no answer. I will keep trying until the place closes at 10:00, anytime for a visit is awkward. I am all ready to launch into the campaign but it will probably be good for me to get away from it for a few days. It will have to be after Monday because I will have to get some funds from the bank.
I just got back from calling Carine. Fernand will be starting a vacation on the 17th. of July so I will arrange to spend some time with him then. Carine talks pretty good English but she says her dad is not all that good at it. She will be around as an interpreter. I have just been summoned to the cafe to see Dr. Hildebrandt. He said that I must tell the police that the battering ram was only symbolic; otherwise, I will never get it back. He quoted Gandhi on compromise and surrender. In my pamphlet, I said that whether the battering ram should be used would be guided by the opinion of the Berliners but I couldn't say that the ram would not be used. I told him under the cirumstances, the best place for the ram was in jail. Suddenly, he saw the ram for what it was (a bone of contention) and he liked it. He also was very impressed with the "Battering Ram." He said over and over it was beautiful. Part of it was to butter me up for a proposition he knew I wouldn't like. I did take a great deal more care with this one, with an eye for aesthetics. By chance the only red paint they had at the store was the same color as my car.
The cross pieces for the triangle extended longer than needed and suggested an outrider, 7'x3'x5', to stand in. This suggested a hand rail at the top of the sign and all these put together suggested accomodation like a fireman has on the outside of a fire truck. I arranged the ropes as they would hang if the ram were in place, I will get you a picture of this in due time. Gerht, the photographer, got three pretty good pictures of the struggle and Dr. Hildebrandt didn't mention the pictures of the car. I made the point that the Ram need not leave the jail and the ram hanger need not leave the yard to be politically effective.
Affectionately, John
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July 2/89
Dear Dear,
It is Sunday morning and it is raining, a nice quiet rain. I went to the cafe, which like the rest of the staff, I have access to before opening time. Christina was in charge and she gave me this large wholesale can to open with the hand can opener. When I brought it back, I told her that among the other things, I was a professional can opener.
11:59
The rain has stopped so I think I will take some red paint and go to Potsdammer Platz and put the opening word for the statement in German on the second tile.
Later: I got the word "Kampagne" on the German statement painted. The British Allied Command ordered me down again and by phone turned me over to the city police. When I refused to respond, they then drove off. I was out for quite a while and had a very good interaction with the tourists. One photographer has a book of photographs of my 1989 campaign and it's very impressive even though he missed out on the confiscation of my Ram. One of the men from the concession wanted to give me something. It was a little bitty brown bear. I'm going to send it to Ivy. I'll give her half interest so we will own something in common. Someone put some money in the box where I keep my things and others followed the example. I am collecting quite a hoard of change.
July 3/89:
It is raining again. I was down to the cafe where they handed me your letter of June 26th. I hope you won't get involved with Vincent. He knows what he is doing and needs no assistance. I'm afraid Bryan is still uncomfortable with my endeavor even though he understands and accepts the rationale of it. I am going to take the letter to the one stop Hallesches Tor where next to Hurties department store there is a post office. The U-Bahn station is just across the street from here.
Lovingly, Sir John
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Wed. (July) 5/89: Thurs. 6/89:
Hello Dear,
Much has been happening and I haven't had the energy to tell it. I am preparing for my campaign against the plunder by the West Berlin police. I guess Dr. Hildebrandt did not want to encourage the occupation of the police station so he sent out a press release himself. He went over it with me but with the language barrier I wasn't sure what he was saying, but I think it will be allright because it included my statements with the release. The next morning when I asked Hans about it, he said the release had already gone to the press. He translated for me and it just said the Museum organization talked to Runnings and proposed that the compromise the police offered should be an acceptable one. They had quoted King on compromise but Runnings had said, "It wasn't a compromise but a surrender." The Morgen Post mentioned me in the next issue together with a statement from the police that I would not get my Ram back. This is good, as the last statement was that I could have my ram back anytime I wanted to pick it up.
So to follow this up I wanted to get the campaign started as soon as possible. I made up a pretty good sign with photos of the forceful taking of the Ram by the police and my innocent Rammbock enlarged to appropriate proportions. I have a date set for the start of my campaign here where I will picket the city police establishment (Monday the 10th. at 10:00 o'clock). I sent a notice to my 6 press contacts and tomorrow at 2:00 I will go to the Axel Springer Bldg. and see if I can see reporters from the Morgen Post, B.Z. and Bild newspapers. I will make arrangements to see the battering ram tomorrow. I will take the Museum press agent as an interpreter and maybe we can get a picture.
I went to Potsdammer Platz and started the German statement. I painted the "Campaign" red with letters 6" high and I think I do my best lettering with 6" letters. I got only two words done of the following message, but one of them was a word twenty letters long.
While I was there a man came up and explained that he was a reporter and wrote for "Stern" and other magazines and that if I had anything going to be sure to let him know. I promptly told him to come around to Checkpoint Charlie at 10 o'clock on Monday. If I can get enough press people for the first day, I think my sign on the car will be safe from being taken by the police. It is a great sign and I am very pleased with it. Never was the place to campaign so handy.
I met a couple from Seattle who had been involved with the white train and Jim Douglas. When I told them about my departure from the anti-war position, they listened! I wanted to see the Rammbock so that while I was campaigning, I could visualize where it was in the building. I thought I should do this before I closed the door on negotiations. I asked Hans to talk to Gehrt to go with me. I had been to the police station and the police at that time effected not to know what I was talking about or they were indicating there was nothing they could do. Hans said he didn't think they would let me see it but called Gehrt who said he would come and bring his camera. I thought myself that the police would be surprised at me wanting to see the ram and that they were unlikely to let anyone take pictures.
Since the police would not know that Gehrt was the press agent for the Museum, Gehrt could pose as an interpreter friend and at Checkpoint Charlie everyone carries a camera.
Hans called the jail and there was no problem with me seeing the ram, so Gehrt and I left for the police station.
The police station is part of an enormous facility that occupies a city square. There is a parking lot full of police vans and all this within a stone's throw of CPC. It was with no small qualms, that I approached this institution to throw down the gauntlet for a political contest.
This time a smiling representative of the law vigorously shook my hand. "Good morning, Mr. Runnings. You would like to take some pictures? You are a fine American." We were taken to the courtyard where there were storage buildings and one of the many doors was opened. There lay my battering ram among some broken bicycles and the room didn't even have a barred window. I was encouraged to pose with the ram for pictures and Gehrt took 10.
This smiling policeman explained the proposition which Gehrt interpreted to me. I would give the ram to the city to become part of the Museum's treasures at Checkpoint Charlie.
This translated in my head that my battering ram would be taken out of one jail and put in another.
I share the upstairs with a theater group that is to make a play to be done at the CPC and elsewhere. One of the persons is a Texan. They all seemed marvelously impressed with me and what they suppose I am doing. The Texan said, "Only an American could do it!" I didn't correct him because in a sense there is some truth in this. I dare to do what I do because of an inherited cultural proposition that the individual may be right and the community wrong. This proposition is stronger in an Anglo-Saxon from North America than anywhere else on earth. It was a proposition of Aunt Jean's heroes and of Quaker heroes.
Sat. 8/89:
I thought since I don't need an audience to protect me from the police anymore, I would go to the Wall while it was cool and do my painting. (We are having clear skies night and day now and while painting yesterday I got a burn.) So I took off before seven and when I went to pick up the planks, they were gone! I returned to the Museum to rearrange my plans. I didn't want my lettering to interfere with my action against the police. I would pick up my other materials that the concessions stored for me as soon as they were open. I wanted to use the holders I kept my pamphlets in for my campaign against the police. I had breakfast and went again to Potsdammer Platz. I didn't take Anna's bag as I would need nothing in it.
I wanted the space in the parking lot next to the fence for my car and display as this will put it virtually in the Allied Command area in full view from the reviewing stand. Tony said when the place was vacated at night to put a ladder there to indicate the space was not available. I have done this and today he will move my car to this most desirable spot.
I wanted to tell all the concession persons that my staging had been taken and I rehearsed the word "stalin" with Andre. When I returned the 1/3 mile and repeated the word "stalin" to the concession person, he pointed to my staging where I had left it the night before. I had moved my staging to the first set of bushes, preliminary to hiding them. My brushes and my lettering are in Anna's bag at the Museum! It was not a good day.
July 9/89
Carine called to say that I would have to make arrangements for the trip to Ghent from my end. I think I can get Hans to do this for me. I went again early today to paint letters and I am on the last line. It is warm and overcast. I have promises from three people that they will be at the opening of my campaign tomorrow.
July 10/89:
I got your letter when you picked the cherries July 4th. I intended to have you tell Eleanor that I thought of her before and after her birthday but the 4th. got lost somehow.
Five press people came to the opening of my campaign to get my Rammbock back but there was really nothing to report. They took plenty of pictures of me with my sign and it was a great turnout considering the few that knew about it. Then I finished my lettering at Potsdammer Platz. One tile is filled with the message in German and the other in English. The German is Hildebrandt's translation. I do hope it says what I want it to say. It sticks up like a sore thumb on the Wall as you will see when I get the pictures developed. The Wall is quite high at this point so it might escape destruction for some time. While I am here a part of the destruction can be fixed.
Hans got me the information on the trip to Ghent. To fly it costs 553 DM and by train 314 DM. Hans wondered if I might have trouble going through DDR territory and I said in '86 I had traveled from Frankfurt to Berlin through East Germany so I will try it again. Travel time, it's like going to visit Ethel.
I still don't know why the Museum is feeding me. Like in Seattle, I get no feedback, commentary, critique or any indication that my material is being read and understood. While they are quick to accomodate my wants, they never sit down at my table to engage me in conversation nor invite me to sit at their table. I'm so isolated as I am anywhere else. Dr. Hildebrandt evidently saw nothing in the police confiscation of my property to get excited about. All I had to do was assure the police that my battering ram was harmless and I could have it back. Where's the problem?
It's 7:47 A.M. and the workmen are stripping the concrete across the street. The building now cuts off my view of the city. I am going to post this letter in the morning.
Lovingly, Sir
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July 11/89
Dear Louise,
I forgot to take your letter with me when I went to Hallesches Tor for leafleting. It was a relief to be done with the lettering on the Wall. It is a fine day and I was feeling good even though I was only giving out 50 an hour. I am gambling that my hassle with the police over the battering ram will be more interesting to Berliners than how to do away with the military. There is only one catch, the media won't be interested in promoting a contest with the police in West Berlin. I did get in the B.Z. (Berliner Zeitung), a small piece on page 18.
When I was doing my picket duty to attract the press, the East German police came onto the border to have a closer look and as I wanted them to have a good look I went to the border too. So the picture that got printed was the one showing me confronting the East German police and there was nothing about my political occupation on August 7th.
However, I did go to East Germany after Mirko without an accommodating press and brought him back in 10 days. I got your letter July 6th. and your protest against the hunger strike and I do listen to you. When I do an action I have double pain; the ordeal and the discomfort I am causing you, but certainly I would not desire you to be indifferent.
You and I have accounts to square with ourselves that we can't ask anyone else to advise us on.
July 12:
I have twice tried to announce through the media that I will occupy the police headquarters to protest the theft of my ram to follow my picketing of the facility. Closeby is a very good place to pass out leaflets. It is the plaza of the Axel Springer building, part of a complex said to represent 70% of the Berlin media. Facing the plaza are 20 stories of windows. I think I will go there this morning and see what will happen.
I don't think Dr. Hildebrandt will like it much but I have no agreement with him. I am ready to leave as soon as he finds me more of a liability than an asset.
Later: I set up in front of the revolving doors of the Axel Springer building and nearly everyone took a leaflet. Then a man from the front desk came out to tell me that I must move out onto the street and I said I like it better where I was. So a little while later the police came and explained about private property and that I should move out onto the sidewalk. But I said it would be a poor place to leaflet. So they went inside and after a while they left and I saw their backs going down the street. I gave away the 100 leaflets and came back to the cafe and had breakfast.
I not only faced down the Axel Springer management but the police said I could have my ram back whenever I wanted it. I have 300 pamphlets faced with the Rammbock statement so I will continue the campaign until it is back at C.P.C. so that this won't leave me without a campaign to pass out leaflets for. So I will take the position that it is not enough that the rammbock be available but that it must be returned to where it was taken from. Otherwise, I have no issue to continue the campaign until the occupation. After that I see nothing in the way of my delivering my Western newspapers into East Germany.
I have the slogan for my next campaign, "Campaign for the Political Penetration of the Militarily Imposed Line". I don't know how it will stack up in German. I hate having my carefully-eliterated statements garbled in another language.
It is 7:42 in the evening and I have just finished carrying the last plank of my staging from Potsdammer Platz. I had another look at my lettering. It stands out like an accusation above the Wall of Babel. It shouts. It invites rotten eggs and vegetables but nothing has happened so far. This morning I was at the U-Bahn station at Hallesches Tor (I think a Tor is a shopping complex) and a man who spoke a little English invited me to a meeting of his organization where he said there might be 30 people. He had a friend who could act as an interpreter and I could "bring a B.Z. reporter if I liked".
And I thought, "Of course. All I had to do was call B.Z. reporters and they come flocking."
But on a hunch that this person might have better judgement than I on the newsworthiness of me talking to his organization, I asked Hans to call the reporter that did the stories about me in the B.Z. Hans did this for me and the reporter didn't commit himself to a firm promise (but he would try and make it). Anyway, this is to take place Sunday morning at 10:00. Christina called Carine in Ghent that I would leave Tuesday the 18th. for Belgium and arrive late the same day. The office pays for my calls. It was a nice day with the strong wind blowing and I was at the Axel Springer Building where I do the pleasantest leafletting ever. Persons pick up my leaflets with a friendly smile. I think they like our Rammbock on my flyer. He makes a perfect innocent prisoner. There is a summer storm beating on the windows. I got a haircut today (27 DM).
A woman came while I was leafleting at the Tor and gave me a box of chocolates shapes like leaves, another day I was given a small bottle of vodka. It still sits on the windowsill waiting for someone I can share it with.
July 12, 5:25 A.M.
I am programmed to do this thing (my taking the Western newspaper into East Germany) and my mind wakes me up in the morning and kicks me out of bed to work on the statement to the press about my forthcoming invasion. It's going to be another nice day with high winds and clouds charging about the sky.
We are back at square one again. When you have a pet battering ram you can't make plans in a systematic way. Someone in the administration must have read my pamphlet! Now unless Dr. Hildebrandt can take my Rammbock in chargem it is to be destroyed. It is just a threat, of course, because the press has already given my Ram enough coverage that it cannot be so lightly dismissed. To say nothing of the weight my image has with Berliners. This could not be done without raising controversy which, of course, is what a politician lives on.
It looked for a while like the usefulness of the ram might be giving out. I couldn't see the members of Dr. Hildebrandt's group using it except with his approval and he is tied to the administration by a multimillion dollar property. So I think I will take a short vacation in Belgium.
Dr. Hildebrandt called. He finds my position a tragedy. I will never get my battering ram back! I am charged with ingratitude for all the help that I received here and I will not accomodate him by assuring the police that my ram will be harmless. It looks like I will have to move out.
While I was leafleting yesteray, a man came up and asked me what I was doing Sunday, and I said, "Nothing." He did not speak much English but he conveyed that there was a meeting of about 30 people and I was to take the U-Bahn to a given stop and give the address to a taxi driver. Anyway, I was disturbed this morning after my confrontation with Dr. Hildebrandt and went for a walk along the Wall and I met the Englishman who was with the Evening Telegraph. He mentioned a talk show so I asked him, "What talk show?" and he said, "You should know since you are the main attraction." He said it's been announced on the radios so more than 30 attenders may come. I thought that maybe I could make an appeal for quarters when I am with this group tomorrow.
July 16:
I was to this discussion group this morning and who should be there but Andreas who shared a cell with me in the DDR detention facility! He looked real dapper and he was with his pretty wife. It was a very pleasant meeting and the reporter was there to take pictures.
He assured me he was not a B.Z. reporter but independent. There were about 20 people here besides the principals, average age about 92. The meeting was in a restaurant and a nice old fellow played the piano in my honor. The first hour the chairman asked the questions and the second hour I took questions from the group. They were good questions and I gave good answers. It was a very pleasant experience.
The Englishman, Albert, was there and he had the only standard ideas as to the accomodations, a Red Cross hostel quite close to my area of operation. I have not been there yet. Andre will arrange something with them tomorrow.
Monday 17/89:
This morning I asked Hildebrandt directly if he wanted me to leave and he said no, that I could have my own room until the finisher went to work on it and that I could eat free in the cafe. So I can go to Belgium and not have to worry about rearranging my life when I get back. Hildebrandt assured me of his great respect for me even though the day before he was saying that I was not respected. I was real relieved because my plans depended heavily on my having accomodation here.
The weather is cool, windy and changeable. I like the weather to be cool enough to wear lots of clothes to cover up my age.
Lovingly, John
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July 18/89
Dear Louise,
I am in the station at the Zoological Garden in Berlin waiting for my train to Ghent to visit the Vennemans. The hazards of your first trip on a train in Europe are great. I had my ticket bought and information booth and asked. "You go upstairs", I was told. I go upstairs and there are four sets of tracks running both ways, "Which side?" I ask when I go back. "The right side", I am told. I go back to look and there are four sets of tracks (which right side?). I am waiting in good faith that the person I asked gave me the right train.
The first impression of the European train is the smoothness . It's almost like a balloon ride. Then I find a considerable difference from the Europe of my history book to the Europe of a train ride. My last trip in Europe you will remember was from East Berlin to productive countryside. This country is much more wooded but still abundantly productive. Much of the wheat has lodged due to the rain and heavy wind storms, I don't know where we are. This might be East Germany. I asked and this will be East Germany for another 2 hours. The DDR officers have been through to check our passports. No problem! I saw a whole trainload of Communist pigs, they looked much like Capitalist pigs but I guess one would have to get to know them better to tell the difference.
We are long out of East Germany and stopping at each town. The stops have a flavor of an age that is passed in America, one that gives a nostalgic pleasure. I met a Hollander who had been teaching in Germany and I had an opportunity to tell him my experiences on the Wall. When I arrived in Ghent, Fernand and Carine were on the spot, and we talked about my favorite subject, me! Fernand and Carine and Jacqueline are all hospitality. Carine has a lively sense of humor. She has her own apartment but I spent the night at Fernand's. It is now before breakfast. The apartment that Fernand owns is three stories as was the case with his mother's place. It is close to the barracks where I was stationed during the war. The barracks or army quarters are decorated with the elaborateness of a cathedral. I will have to get a picture. My camera stopped working and I spoiled 24 pictures, so I threw it in the wastebasket. I went to Herties and bought another where the cheapest ones were selling for 300 DM and the attendant had to use two keys to open the case.
I am writing this letter on a desk that must be a zillion years old. It was from Portugal, a prize Jacqueline inherited from her parents. It came with a very elaborate buffet. Jacqueline is getting breakfast and Fernand is hovering around trying to dispense appropriate hospitality. Fernand took me to see the apartment that was his old home and we took a picture of the door that Maurice (his father) made. Then we went around to the cemetery and saw the head stone for Maurice and Clotilde. I have never seen such elaborate memorials as the Belgians have. There was a nice one for his parents with pictures on them and a little plot of geraniums Fernand watered while we were there.
We also took pictures of the Military establishment but the sun was not right for it this morning. Fernand brought attention to the many places from which he could see his church (St. Peter's church). I took a picture of it because it would please him. As I was taking the picture the bell started chiming as though in recognition of my appreciation. Fernand does sketching as a hobby and he is rather good at it. You will get a copy in due time. Carine has come home and we are to have something to eat and then I am going to get this letter in the mail.
Love, Sir
(note) I met the Vennemans through their two boys, ten and twelve years, on Christmas day while I was stationed in Ghent. I was there during World War 2. I enjoyed a lively correspondence with their mother until her death a few years previous to this visit.
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July 27/89
Dear Louise,
I had a visit from Andreas who shared my cell in the West Berlin detention facility. I went down to the street to meet him and his friend. I wanted to show him some things in my room and the Rammbock hanger and my car. But I thought we might share something in the cafe first, as they have both beer and soft drinks. But the language difficulty got in the way. As soon as I said beer, Andreas had his own idea. It must be the River Boat. And we are hustled out to his shiny car with which he zipped through the traffic with a hair raising precision that convinced me that seatbelts were nice things to have on cars. When we got there we sat down to beer steins about half the size of a washtub. But the beer was nice and light and I enjoyed it but I put my foot down on a refill. Andreas has married the young woman he tried to reach, before the thaw, in West Berlin via the trunk of a car and was caught to share a cell with me. He works in a "water factory", a term I found exceedingly funny. He is thoroughly enjoying the freedom of the west. And I get him back to the Museum to show him my things. He wasn't carried away with the battering ram.
A lawyer came up the 90 steps to my door to tell me that his firm would take my case free if I wanted to take the police to court. The case would be a pushover, of course, as the police hadn't a shred of legality. So I thanked him liberally, but said that my methods precluded the use of lawyers.
I skipped a week somehow. I went to Hans for a press release and we discussed the date and Hans suggested that Monday was too early to send it out that Wednesday would be better. And somehow I am thinking that we are talking the week before the action or the week starting the 30th. So someone came to me in the cafe to have his book autographed and I dated it the 3rd. of August. And he said he would like it dated the 27th. of July! And I for several days had been thinking that my action at the police station was next Monday. So I have another week to leaflet which I don't welcome at all.
Someone did respond to my leaflet. He evidently read it and approved. But my problem was that I was trying to do it all by myself and that I should take my cue from Gandhi and have millions of supporters. He suggested others among the "One Wolders" who should be interested, such as the Moonies and he might have been a valuable contact. But I found myself defending myself and I was scarcely civil to him. But I did something right today.
I was leafletting in front of the police station and a young woman approached. She wore deliberately mismatched stockings and deliberate holes spiralled one leg, shortest skirt, plumpish. She picked up a leaflet and stood as she vigorously perused it. And then sat down on the steps of the building and gave it a thorough study, So I opened the conversation as she prepared to leave by asking her if she spoke English and soon we were talking like jaybirds and there was about 6 young people standing about and they were responding in a quiet way to what I was saying and responding to eachother. So I assumed they were friends of the first party. But to my surprise I found none of them knew the others.
The young woman showed a good deal of interest in keeping in touch with me and a young East Indian from Philadelphia accompanied me back to the Museum and I showed him my car and the book of my campaigns and we swapped phone numbers.
I had anticipated that when I started campaigning against the police that my relationship with Berliners would change. Now this little fire that I started may flicker and go out but the political climate that produced it will start others.
The young man called himself a musician and said he supported himself with his skills. And he is more or less aware of the housing situation and offered to ask around for me in case I have to leave here when the decorators come.
I got your two letters July 20-22 while I was talking to Rashidii Graffiti as he calls himself. I think it is a wretched situation that Iran is in and I feel for him. His independent spirit is now in the hands of the doctors. I like it very little.
I do not often find my leaflets discarded but I did find two today. Sometimes people send their children to pick up a leaflet. And this little girl came with the smaller brother. And I gave her one. And the little fellow, mouth down at the corners, becuase I wasn't giving him one. And I thought of all the thousands of pamphlets I wasted on adults. Why not waste one on him?
On the train to the copy center a man was folding the B.Z. So I asked him if I could look and he gave me the section. I had seen a picture in it I recognized. It was of Mirko on top of the Wall, but there was no reference to either Mirko or me in the text. I'm almost sure they used it to show a Communist trying to escape because I can see Eric Honneker's name and there is no way they are going to couple my effort with Honneker's. There is no one on duty at the Museum on Saturday that I can go to for translation so I am going to mail this letter and leave you wondering.
Affectionately, John
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July 31, 1989
Dear Louise,
I had a good day today. I spent an hour at the Axel Springer building. Then went to Hallesches Tor and then to the police station on Fredricks Strasse where the police came out in a friendly way and took pamphlets and one who spoke some English said I could have my ram back after the August 13 celebration. I said when I get my ram back I will stop my campaign, and he said I would not be able to campaign outside the police station. I said that it was the very place I intended to campaign. He said it was impossible. I told him to hang around while I showed him how it was done. He went inside. I gave away 100 leaflets. Some of them to smiling policemen. I had forgotten to post your letter and I felt so good, I went again to Hallisches Tor and gave away another 100. I had beef and gravy on potatoes and diced beets for supper with rasberry pie for dessert.
I went to Hans for a press release on the "occupation" of police headquarters and later in the day I called at the office and he handed the releases, 200 of them, all ready for stuffing. I anticipate that any media that responds will call the police and the police will say I can have my ram after the 13th. I will be put in the position of quibbling about five days. I will make them hold me in jail for that time and then I will put my ram together. There are troubles about getting the ownership requirement to get it licensed. It may never become a free agent on the streets of Berlin. I may paint something on the tile, where I broke my back and then have my tryste with the DDR.
Love, John
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Aug. 1,'89
Dear Louise,
Today was a good day even though I was away when the Morgen Post reporter came and I may have lost a story. The best leafletting is in front of the police station but at the U-Bahn station there are many more people that read my street display. So I spend time at both places. And I gave away 50 at the Axel Springer Building.
I got my notice to find another place. But Dr. Hildebrandt gave me two weeks and said I could eat at the cafe for 1/2 price. And this the help interpreted to mean "housing price", the arrangement with the employees. So when I insisted on paying for my tea they wouldn't hear of it because the house didn't pay for drinks. I think that Dr. Hildebrandt is the only one in the organization that doesn't admire me for standing up to the police. So I told them that I didn't want them to do anything for me that I would be ashamed to have Dr. Hildebrandt know. "Oh! We will take care of it. Don't worry about a thing."
I had paid Tony another 200 DM to finish up the paperwork on the car. And he told me jubilantly that the car was now mine and that I could let any licensed driver drive it. And we are to go tomorrow to get the plates. I don't know where I will put it when I have to leave here, but, as the Quakers say, "Way will open."
A radio station interviewed me at Wittenbergplatz U-Bahn. And after he was gone I remembered all the clever things I didn't say. But there will be other opportunities.
Tony sent the papers and the license plates up via someone else. I cannot own the car because I am not a resident of Berlin. So in order to have someone else drive the car I have to have an owner. Tony cannot be the owner because Dr. Hildebrandt won't allow it. So I have no prospects of someone who would use the car in the way that I have in mind.
So Dr. Hildebrandt has me in a fix since it will be hard to find parking if I do not own the car and I have 14 days to find another place.
Later:
I went down and found Tony and asked him for the keys. He talked about getting together with Dr. Hildebrandt and things I might do through the Consulate. So there are problems to be worked out. I tried the keys in the car and started it. The motor is real quiet. I think I will let the whole issue slide until we see how hard it is to get the Ram back.
Hans got me another press release that I mailed today.
Warmly, John
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Donnerstag, 3 Aug.'89
Dear Louise,
It has been wettish, light to heavy drizzle and dampish day in between. I had a good day today. I went to Hallesches Tor before eight and posted your letter and passed out 60 brochures before breakfast and then I came back and had two pastries and a pot of tea for breakfast. I then went to the Axel Springer Bldg. until it rained me out. And back to the cafe for a mid-morning snack. And then to the police station where I passed out 150 leaflets and back to the cafe for a lunch, ground meat wrapped in boiled cabbage (very good). And then to Wittenburge Strasse U-Bahn station where I gave away another 150 leaflets.
To make my sign manageable on the U-Bahn I have made the pole in two sections so I have to assemble it when I arrive. And it is convenient to have a wall to do this against. So I use the entry way of the police station to do this where a window looks into a large room where half a dozen officers work. And when I set up there are smiles all over. And today one of the police brought out another officer (evidently from another district) to introduce him to me as "someone who was interested in my case." There surely must be a precedent set here where a campaign against the police has the approval of the police.
So I came home after I had distributed all the pamphlets I had with me, and had a nap.
And when I woke up, instead of thinking of this awesome confrontation that I will have with the police Monday morning at 10:00, I thought about Pooh Bear laying the trap for the Heffalump and testing the honey to see that it was real genuine honey and not cheese.
They are starting on the roof of the building across the street. Yesterday an enormous mobile crane was set up on the street and lifted the enormous concrete roof beams into place. It was good entertainment.
Aug. 6, 8:47 A.M.
Looks like a nice day coming up. It was real nice last evening. I walked through the vacant land across from the Stuttgarter Hof which is to become a part of a larger structure. The vacant area is grown up in trees and shrubs and is alive with cottontail rabbits. It is a close escape from the city and evidently nobody goes there but me.
When I was campaigning preliminary to going after Mirko, the police were told that this was to see if West Germans would be prevented by police from walking the Wall. Both the city police and the Allied Command soldiers were at the site when the action was about to take place. The Allied Command left, while the city police stayed to watch.
When Allied soldiers and city police look the other way when the Wall is attacked from anywhere, then other means of solving the problems between the two Berlins will be found. By walking on the Wall I showed what the East Berliners could do in such a case. By lettering on top of the Wall, I showed the Allied Command and the DDR could do in such a case. By leafleting outside the Axel Springer Bldg. and the police station, I showed that the establishment recognized the inefficacy of opposing me on this issue.
The police department has evidently issued a statement that I can have my Ram after the celebration of the uprising Aug. 13, '61 which is the organization that Hildebrandt heads with the employees of the Museum. If I were to go to the police station and ask, "Please, may I ?", I would give a signal to the police department that they could pick the Ram up anytime they thought it might be used. And they might also ask for the promise.
Now I see Monday as shaping up in the most desireable situation possible. So far as I know, I have a sympathetic press, I have a sympathetic police department, I have an issue that might go international because it strikes at the very basis of a free society.
I am very familiar with the hunger strike. I have done it four or five times. But I have found when you don't eat it makes EVERYONE uncomfortable (including my wife). And when the police bring my ram back I want it to be done in the glare of public attention. So that when I give my battering ram into the care of some Berliner it will not be snagged by the police.
The parallel is with Oct. 4, '86 when I went after Mirko. In any case, I hope to make the point that both the East and the West take elaborate action to protect the Wall from John Runnings. And I want also to show how a political battering ram can be made to produce publicity while lying amongst the broken bicycles in police storage.
And, oh, yes! A couple of times I got to say, "After you." ..when someone asked when I was going to walk the Wall again. I get negatives done in pantomime. A leaflet is torn in shreds and left on the street.
One young man took my bundle of leaflets and threw them into the wind. Another takes a leaflet and walks over and throws it in the trash.
Another young man on finding himself in the presence of the Marvelous Wall Walker wasn't quite sure how to handle it, so he kissed me on the ear and left.
Lovingly, John
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Aug. 7/89
Dear Dear,
There doesn't seem to be any way to get arrested in West Berlin. I was prepared for a several day siege at the police station but they got me my ram in just a little over three hours.
Photographers for the Associated press came and took pictures as did Reuters and Folksblatt but there were no reporters and no questions. And inside there were several newspapers represented but nobody took pictures of the Rammbock but the museum photographer. And at noon the girl from the desk at the Museum brought me lunch after I had been assured that the Rammbock would be returned. This was so I could break my fast.
Aug. 8/89
There was a small slightly amusing story in the Folksblatt about my invasion but nothing about the release of the Ram. I decided I should sign my name to the statement on the Wall. So I was moving the staging back to Potsdammer and an acquaintance stopped to say he saw me on TV in the police station. And, earlier, a radio station took a statement from me saying I would not promise that my ram would continue to be harmless. So I think my ram has well paid for itself in free advertising and I can prepare to invade East Berlin with Western newspapers. And I have thought of a delightful caper in this respect.
I anticipate that the DDR will not want to keep me in jail since they have my pamphlet that says, in effect, "The briar patch is my playground." (Uncle Remus) and they won't want to go through the difficulty of my deportation. So I will offer to take a bundle of newspapers into West Berlin. And pay my way home. I will require, of course, that they make a TV event of it.
We have set the date, Aug. 14th., and Hans made me up a press release and I have them stuffed ready for stamping. And as I had plenty of time I went down with one to give to the guard of the DDR. But when I got to the station, I was waved on to the building where they check your passports and I passed my press release through the wicket. And prepared to leave when a soldier came running up to close the door to prevent my leaving and as I was contesting another soldier came. And then a third came smiling through to clear up the difficulty. He was embarrassed that he had little English. But just one moment. He invited me to sit. And kept up a chatter in German. His chief would be there in a very short time. And, as the moment stretched into moments of some number, I began to wonder if I would be held. I had not yet mailed the mailing, nobody knew I was in the DDR. And as the time went on I knew that nobody I knew was in the DDR. And as the time went on I visualized them, having captured the Mauerlauefer, phoning all the way to Gorbachev to find out what to do with him. But word came through that I was to be let go.
It has been lovely weather and I am still enjoying the relief from the campaign and the anticipation of the ordeal.
I'm going to let this letter go. I will have time for another one before my tryst with the East Berliners.
Lovingly, John
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Aug. 6th., 89
Dear Louise,
The story of my sixth invasion of the DDR is quickly told. I gathered up my bundle of newspapers and walked into East Berlin where I was steered into an office by burly guards. A female captain that had interpreted for the guards, with respect to the right to draw territorial lines, urged that I return to West Berlin as my offense had been forgiven in a general amnesty some time ago. This pretty much shattered my ploy. However, it did not give me permission to enter the DDR and so, as I persisted in affirming this right, two white gowned young men appeared and they gently lifted me from my chair and carried me out the back door where I was laid on a stretcher. I was put in an ambulance and taken to a hospital. There I was examined by a doctor of psychiatry and I was then delivered by Allied or Berlin police to Dr. Hildebrandt, and to the floor of the cafe in the Museum, having come inert from the East Berlin checkpoint office.
So it was a fizzle in the light of the things I proposed but it was far from a disaster. For it was a good issue to campaign on. It set in motion all the other events by which I spread myself this summer.
Affectionately, John
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Thurs., Aug. 10/89
Dear Louise,
Warm day, overcast, sprinkle of rain now and then. I brought the last plank back to the Museum from Potsdammer Platz where I lettered my name under my statement. John Runnings, der Mauerlaufer. But I forgot to put the two dots over the second A. I took a picture this morning and sometime today I will paint the tile I broke Nov. 18, '86.
I have laid out my strategy for Monday. I will insist upon a formal arrest before I will respond to questions. I will then lay out the options they have. (1) They can have me do all or part of the sentence. If they do this battering rams will spring up in West Berlin like flowers in May. They won't believe this and neither do I but it sets an interesting frame of reference. (2) If they deport me to the West, I will walk their Wall again and deporting me will be costly and inconvenient. But I can show them how to avoid all this. And then state my terms: They make a news event of this action and send a press release to Western news agencies, that I am taking East German newspapers into West Berlin.
I doubt if this can be accomplished without a good deal of hassle for the Administration so don't count on me being home for my birthday.
Friday, 11th., '89
It is fun to be me. I am now painting the tile I broke that broke my back. You remember the picture. The hole I made was quite small, and walking along the ground close to the Wall you cannot see it at all. It was of such small moment the East Germans didn't bother to replace the tile. So yesterday I called an independent reporter that already got my picture in the B.Z. and the Museum media person and I set up my staging. It was right in front of a security tower, you remember, but there were no orders to get off DDR property. The guards, young men, watched me with interest. The tile is now a pristine white among the dark grey others and I have laid out the lettering in my room to be traced onto it today.
EIN LOCH IN DER MAUER
von John Runnings, der Mauerlaufer
I have given the keys and the papers for the car back to Hans.
Saturday, Aug. 12
B.Z. TV came around yesterday morning to ask me what I would be doing on Aug.13th. I knew the question was, "Are you going to participate in the celebration?" So I said I had no special plans for Aug. 13th. I probably lost an opportunity to put in a plug for my own celebration on Aug. 14th.
ACTION TO TAKE WESTERN NEWSPAPERS INTO EAST BERLIN
This action on Monday, August 14th., 1989, at 9:00 at Checkpoint Charlie is not an endorsement of the newspapers that I will carry. Nor is it intended for the disparagement of any government. It is rather to emphasize that the abolishment of the military division toward one Berlin will require freedom of the press and freedom of speech across the militarily imposed line.
In taking these newspapers across the militarily imposed line I will subject myself to the 18 month suspended sentence awarded me by the East German court in February, 1987.
John Runnings
This is the 13 of August when Berlin celebrates some action or uprising that took place in '61. It is a time when several hundred Berliners go to the border and shout insults at the border guards. I have an excellent view of the whole bit. Three years ago I stood 12 feet inside the line and the border guards shooed them all back across the line periodically except for me, who they knew wasn't moveable.
The crowd is a good deal bigger this year being Sunday and a pleasant day. And the Allied Command and the East German guards are present in proportion. There are 5 small busses of police from this side and I see that some of them are in riot gear. But it looks like things are well in hand. I have wasted nearly a whole film at it. But it is a good demonstration on how to control a crowd that would like to provoke action. The police show that they have been trained in non-military tactics, but they do carry side arms. A young woman from Indiana who is doing a documentary on the Wall and who, for this, interviewed me came up to my room. And I showed her the nice view I had from my balcony. So she came again to take pictures of the demonstration. I think that will be all until my tilt with the DDR tomorrow.
Affectionately, John
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August 19, 1989
Dear Louise,
I have your letter August 13. I rejoice with Cathy and Morgan in having the courage to make so drastic a change in their way of life. I still think it is indiscrete but discretion can be a halter. And of course, I wish them all the best in their new undertaking.
I don't remember the statement that I made to Dee. But I think she is thinking of my position that activists instigate conflict and call it peace. They are peaceful because they don't carry guns or clubs or broken bottles. I insist that all political conflict is peaceful in this way. However, I will write to her. I don't know when I will get to go home. Sometimes I want desperately to get finished here and go home and at other times I feel great about what I am doing. At times like these I am apt to commit myself to another campaign. Though argument is that if one is trying to make a point about international borders there is no place in the world like Checkpoint Charlie to make it. I have this political stage right at my doorstep with free accomodation. If I go home it will be $1,000.00 anyway.
Dr. Hildebrandt introduced me to Jonathan from California. He is doing a play here and offered to interpret for us. Jonathan translated the Mirko episode and my recent effort with the Western newspaper which Dr. Hildebrandt will use in his article in Der Spiegel, "Who Is John Runnings?" Dr. Hildebrandt is a public figure here and if he gets published it will be a breakthrough of considerable importance.
Now that I have my ram finished I would like to get it out in the street. This will require that we get a West Berliner to own it. That will have to be approved by Dr. Hildebrandt. He seems very pleased with me at this point. Since the East Berliners didn't want me in their jail I would like to try a sustained political invasion, operating from the Museum but going each day into DDR territory, to pass out literature. I have another scheme to annoy the East Berliners and give the protestors on this side some concern. The 3 meters on the West of the Wall is "no man's land". The DDR can't protect it and by treaty it does not belong to West Berlin. When I was lettering I could not leave my staging for a minute but someone was on it to take pictures. I thought I could set up a commercial venture and charge for this close look over the Wall, so that when I invade at C.P.C. I can have a list of grievances that I should be punished for. Trying to operate a business on DDR property without a license for instance.
There is a man who is campaigning the DDR for the release of his wife. He has been waiting 3 years according to his flyer. I am debating after her as I did after Mirko and Mathias Rust.
Sunday, August 20, 1989
It is warm, some would say, Hot! Summer weather. I went down to Potsdammer Platz to test my staging on a raised area where Mirko and I mounted the Wall, October 4th., 1986. I want my patrons to be able to stand or walk on the Wall (at a higher cost of course).
For five Marks I will let them stand on the Wall and for 10 Marks they can walk on the Wall. The purpose of course is not to make money but to engage in activities that the two million West Berliners are culturally blind to and to give the B.Z. something to write about.
The clerk or office help I like, Ute, is leaving today to live with a lover in Chicago. She speaks by far the best English of anyone here. I wish her well but I lose a valuable contact.
Now that K&M are owners of the tree farm you might tell me more about it. How big is this Island? Is there good water? How habitable is the house? Is there a boat dock close by? Having Morgan and Kathy and Ivy and Otis established will naturally help you in locating our new home. There might be low priced property on the Island that could leave you with a good deal of money over.
Who could have guessed that a correspondance between you and Anna would result in such a drastic change in the living condition of Kathy and Morgan? But now that is done, I feel with them the excitement of the move. I look forward to seeing this place and I might get home in time to take part in the house hunting for you and Anna.
I went down for supper at the cafe and Ute brought her glass over to my table and we talked about this and that. Then Gehrt came in with his wife. You remember, he is the Museum press person, and we opened a bottle of champagne. They were talking about the party for me. Gehrt said he saw no difficulty in getting the party together. He knew quite a number of press people and we discussed location. Gehrt suggested the Peter Thurman Memorial Park and I objected that the press might interpret this to indicate my sympathy to those who are interested in shaming the DDR (Peter Thurman was shot while escaping to the West). They countered that there was plenty of room. I went to see after and the best place for a party is at the other end of the park. At the moment it looks like all I'll have to do is attend. I'll get this off. This morning I took the other trestle to Potsdammer and painted my shoes. The Germans start the day early 6:00 and 7:00 o'clock. I'm hungry and the cafe doesn't open until 9:00. It's 8:10 now.
John
_____________________________________________________________________________
Aug. 22/89
Dear Dear,
It's my Birthday! I am 72 years old for goodness sake. Imagine anyone getting to be that old!! I had thought it would take longer than this, but now find I am getting older by the minute. It's very distressing.
I had the trestles delivered to the site of my commercial enterprise. The boards are here to be shortened as I don't want too many people on the stage. I am considering making it even shorter. I took one plank down this morning to try it out. This is the best dodge I have thought of this year. Since it will be without precedent, I am sure they will try to forbid it, which will make good news stories and pictures. I made out my press release this morning. I will get advice from the reporters on what day to do it. I would like to wait until Hans gets back from his vacation. I think it was for two weeks and he must have been away for a week already.
I lost the family I was thinking of helping move to West Berlin. He didn't put his address on his flyer so I posted his flyer on the Wall with a letter attached. The DDR guards tore down my letter and took the only flyer I had. I might try to find his phone number and contact him that way.
Dr. Hildebrandt is still determined to do me "good" by getting an article published in "Der Spiegel". When he read what he had written to me it sounded absolutely awful. I knew that much of this was in his difficulty to express German in English. The thing included me with the great liberals to do no little damage to my philosophy since I represent a departure from some basic tenets of the liberal establishment. I have the great good fortune to have a friend who knows both languages well and wants to do me a kindness. I told him to insist that Dr. Hildebrandt include a quote of mine and he could do what he liked with the rest of the article. He will work for me with Dr. Hildebrandt to see that some of my message gets through undamaged. He asked me how old I was and I said, "72 today." which produced handshakes all around. When I went to the office, Christina handed me your Merry-go-round birthday cake. It is now 9:04 in the evening so I guess there are to be no surprise parties for me. I had expected that Andreas might do something but it was a very good day. I felt in a relaxed mood. I went to Rainer to ask about the commercial venture and a press release to set it off. He said we shouldn't fuss with it now as I should keep myself free for after he got his piece published in Der Spiegel. Many people would come to see the Rammbock and that I should be there to talk to them. I thought to myself, "You are a dreamer." but agreed to wait.
I also got the brief statement in the Times about my foray into East Berlin. There was a brief shower tonight but didn't last more than 6 minutes. It left the gutters rushing with water. A mosquito was in my room the other night, the first this year. I just heard this brief whine and when I got to it it was gone. And I had the itchiest little bump on my behind you ever saw.
Aug. 23/89:
I went down this morning to find the Rammbock was gone! It was in the unlocked court. Gehrt called Rainer who thought it would be unpolitical to have the Museum call the police station. So I went to report the theft. One of the police disengaged himself from the seven or eight others. "You are coming to tell me you are going back to America." he said hopefully. I said, "No, I came to report my Rammbock was stolen." 'That's nice.' he said. I saw that I was getting nowhere so I left. Later they sent an officer around to make a report. Rainer was distressed and I said we would build another one. He nailed down the fact that he had 'warned' me that it might get stolen. He has not yet grasped the fact that these are the things that a political Rammbock is intended to do. It won't be able to be hidden in Berlin and wherever it surfaces, it will be newsworthy.
I was delighted as the chances of getting publicity with it is far greater in the hands of the thief than in the court of the Museum. It is almost sure to pay for itself in free space in the media. (In retrospect it would not be surprising to me if the police took it again.) Jonathan and I worked over Rainer's piece for the Der Spiegel last night and I am much more satisfied with it. Then we went out and had dinner. He then went to East Berlin to see his girlfriend.
Lovingly, John
_____________________________________________________________________________
Aug. 26/89, Monday 8:12 AM
Dear Louise,
My earlier plan for coming home was spoiled by the DDR in July of '87 when I was included in a general amnesty. I think I have another plan that might work. Christina is working on my press release for setting up a commercial enterprise on the Wall. The East Germans by now have found out that to respond to action on the Wall provides the West with a news story, so they are playing it cool. They don't respond with the alacrity they did before. I expect that they will not want to respond after I have been in business for a few days.
Over the Wall from the place where I will set up business, is a large are of perhaps 30 to 50 acres and the tower is on the other side of it. When there is an alert, men are posted on motorcycles. I plan to alert a few press people and do a surprise West/East over the Wall. I hope to have an accomplice who will take care of my things. I will make a real light ladder and in the process of business, I will set the ladder over the Wall and run down the other side of the area.
The media can use the staging to take pictures. At some place I should be intercepted by motorcycle guards. If I can pull it off, it should be as good a show as the breaking of the Wall.
You remember I told you that when I first came to Berlin in '86, I couldn't make out how the U-Bahn collected fares or if the service was free. I later found out that there was a machine in the station where you put in money for a ticket which you must show if challenged by a surprise inspection by U-Bahn agents.
After I had ridden free for a month, I was a hardened criminal even though I was sure the guards and security knew I wasn't paying. When an inspection was made, they solved the problem by not seeing me. So in the two seasons I have not been challenged until yesterday.
Now I know you don't approve of this and I am not sure if I approve myself but I rationalize that I provide a lot of free entertainment to the people of Berlin and the newspapers exploit me to sell advertising. For all this I get this shoddy room! Right or wrong the agents boarded the train yesterday morning, when I was going to the square outside Wittenberg U-Bahn station. Foot traffic pours onto the square from both directions when the light changes on both sides. There is perhaps no place in Berlin where I have as good visibility. When it rains I go inside the station and the security people come and tell me about private property. I tell them about the rain and how bad it is for my paper. They call (or pretend to ) the police but they don't come. Anyway the two agents are going through the car at the train stop, flashing their badges and the people are showing their passes and tickets.
The car is arranged with padded benches on each side of the isle. Eventually one gets to me, I purse my lips, close my eyes and shake my head. He tells me to step outside and I sadly shake my head again. The other agent comes through and orders me off the train, again I sadly shake my head. He grabs for me and the other grabs for the pail I use for my leafletting. It is a large paint bucket that I have painted white with large letters "Ein Berlin" on each side. I didn't want to lose that as I use it both to sit on and elevate myself above the crowd. So I grabbed for it but the pamphlets started piling out of the box I carried. As things were getting pretty messy, both agents escaped out the door and the train pulled away. An old lady across the isle was laughing. She said, "It's the Mauerlaufer!" As I rearranged myself, I had the feeling that all people in the car enjoyed seeing the guards outmaneuvered. I felt like I had been cuddled by these strangers.
Perhaps we should geel for the agents, who were only doing their job, but I have never argued that vulnerable aggression could only be used for moral and lofty purposes.
Aug. 29/89:
Whatever we do about the house and the book, I will continue my international activities. I am making another rammbock, 6x12x16 feet with $30.00 worth of iron on is nose. It will have the Ram figure on it, the only decoration. What's wrong with having fun politicking?
Lovingly, John
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August 30, 1989
Dear Dearest,
It had been raining almost steadily for several days but now it is clear or partly cloudy. It has cooled down, which I like because I don't have much in summer clothes. "August 13" had quite an elaborate party last night in the cafe and this morning the Sri Lanka fellow asked me why I wasn't there. I told him I wasn't invited. I could see he was at a loss as to what to say, so he said nothing.
However, I find I am being helped more extensively than ever. Dr. Hildebrandt wanted to help pay for the second Rammbock and Tony and Mike helped more extensively than ever. Dr. Hildebrandt wanted to help pay for the second Rammbock and Tony and Mike helped me install the iron. Mike and I are going tomorrow to the concession owners at Potsdammer Platz to see about getting an electrical line to the Wall so that I can drill holes for the anchors for a commercial area for display that I plan to fasten to the Wall. This will be posted for sale or rent on the grand opening of my business.
Michael has an electric drill with batteries, so I bought a new concrete drill to drill 4 holes in the Wall. When I tried it out it would only penetrate 1/4 of an inch. The Englishman from the Telegraph was on the stand and was surprised that the East Germans had let me go. I sketched the situation from the ground as a bus had just unloaded and I had a good audience. He came to the Wall with many others and watched my futile attempt. The Englishman asked me what 'make' the machine was and I said 'Black & Decker'. He said 'there's your problem, it should be 'Bausch' and everyone laughed. He accompanied me back to the Museum on his ancient motorcycle and we gossiped about the Museum. I told him the story of my effort to give gifts to the DDR. When I arrived at Potsdammer Platz there was a big truck there with various paraphenalia and after I started drilling a man came to explain that they were taking a movie and I wasn't part of the script. Could I move to some other part of the Wall? I said that supposing I could, I didn't see any reason why I should. Did he have any money? He said no, he didn't have any money, but as I wasn't accomplishing anything I decided to leave. I think the Englishman was disappointed that I didn't pursue my advantage. If my response to the young man's request appears particularly mean- I had just carried the heavy and awkward tools and materials for setting up the space 1/3 of a mile and if I didn't use it I must carry it back. I was nettled by the possibility that the neat idea I had wasn't going to work so well because of this untimely request.
Lovingly, Sir
_____________________________________________________________________________
The first day of September'89, 8:24 PM
Dear Louise,
It was a good day. It seems a long time since this morning. I was to go with Tony and Gehrt to Potsdammer Platz at 11 yesterday but Tony said the wrong people were there to get permission to use the electrical outlets so it was 11 o'clock today. I intended to put in the morning renewing the sign on my Rammbock hanger but to do so I had to have something to stand on so I spent the morning repairing a stepladder and then we went to Potsdammer Platz. I also took some material to lengthen the legs of my scaffolding. We had an electric hammer drill and I put four holes in the Berlin Wall and with the others I have now seven holes to my credit. Anyway, I put the anchors in the holes and fastened two strips of wood to the Wall with lag screws. This will form a base for a merchandise display which I will mark, "FOR SALE OR RENT". And my mind locked onto Roger Miller's line (from King of the Road), "Trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let..50 cents." ...and it won't let go. And Gehrt, the photographer, took pictures of my struggle to penetrate the Wall. It is probably a first in the 29 years the Wall was there and he took the pictures to Bild newspaper and he says there will be a story tomorrow. It will be the third thing he has sold on me in the last several weeks. He wrote a short opinion on my efforts with the picture of me from 1986 on the Wall with the hammer raised...and got it published in the B.Z. It was translated to me by the clerk and it was the best thing so far from a philosopher's point of view. Dr. Hildebrandt's story has not appeared yet.
For some time the caretaker, apparently with the sympathetic ear of the owner, has been trying to get me out of the building on the grounds that there is impropriety in the arrangement. So with the heavy rain the courtyard drain backed up and flooded the court and she jumped on me as the cause as I had been doing carpentry there. And while I cleaned up after myself it was found that there was fresh sawdust and stuff in the drain. This woman took the matter to Dr. Hildebrandt and threatened him with the enormous costs of getting the line unplugged. And he came to me and said, "The Museum is going to be involved in a great expense all because of you."
In the meantime, Tony had cleaned out the drain. So today her husband, who seems like a much nicer person than she is, explained that because the court was not kept clean dust was tracked into the hallway of the building and showed me the evidence, which was impressive. So, I went to work on the court with a broom. It looked like it hadn't been thoroughly swept in years.
And then I did some lettering on the Rammbock sign. So far as I can make out "August 13" was intended as an effort to tell the world that Berlin bled from the division in hopes that the outside world would do something about it. The Museum is here to state the case. But the outside world is not about to do anything about it. And as the years pass the people who are indignant about the Wall are dying off and Berlin is now populated with those who don't know anything else.
So Dr. Hildebrandt, in another effort to make the agony real, has engaged three young actors who are developing a play. And they rehearse it daily here. These three have almost a worshipful attitude toward me, which I find a bit disconcerting but, nevertheless, flattering. One is an American from New York, the other man is a Frenchman and the lovely young woman comes from East Berlin.
I have sat in on their rehearsals and they are pretty good in places. But more to the point, these people who have involved themselves in this struggle to put on the play see the relevance of what I am doing. But Dr. Hildebrandt, who is a liberal front for the conservative establishment, gives little evidence that he does.
For instance, when I set the Ram forward of the head of the battering Ram he said that it should be set back further because it would get smashed there.
This man is an expert in artwork and deals with artists every day and yet he missed the symbolic message in the positioning of the Ram. And in case you didn't, and to put it on a personal basis, I am the vulnerable Ram. Behind me is the battering ram of public opinion that allows me to penetrate the Wall without penalty. I did not clearly understand it myself until this moment when I tried to set it down on paper. This is clearly an example of insight. Months ago I visualized the little male sheep fronting for the heavy political machine. And its placing on the battering ram was so obvious to me that it didn't seem to rate an explanation. So when Dr. Hildebrandt's objection was raised it produced vast irritation in me, but no ready answer. All those months I KNEW but I was unable to articulate for myself why the ram was placed where it was. So it was a good thing the other Ram was stolen because I was not yet ready to explain the battering ram on these terms to the members at the party that was planned for me and which Gehrt is still keen on giving, when we will make a celebration of joining the Rammbock with the hanger on the vehicle. Whoosh!
Here it is the 6th. of September and this letter is still here. I was postering the Wall yesterday for my occupation of the 3 meter division and I was stopped by city police. As they had no right to lay hands on me, I screamed and non-cooperated 'til they got me to the van. It took them about an hour to get rid of me while they phoned headquarters and tried to find me on the computer and the British Allied Command and he knew me but this didn't satisfy the requirements of the police department. By the time they let me go they were smiling, "See you on Friday.", they said. They had been reading my poster over the phone, so the city police and the Allied Command are already alerted. I will take a poster to the sentries of the DDR today. I have the press release all ready to go out with this letter.
For breakfast I had a croissant, a ham sandwich, butter and rasberry jam and a pot of tea.
I have been holding up this letter because I wanted to include the recent newsclips with a translation but I'll get it with the next letter.
Lovingly, John
_____________________________________________________________________________
John Runnings 1000 Berlin 61, 04.09.1989
Friedrichstrasse 44
Checkpoint Charlie Museum
GENERAL PROCLAMATION
PRESS RELEASE
John Runnings will set up a commercial enterprise on the three meters of no-man's land that divides East and West-Berlin
ON FRIDAY, 8TH. OF SEPTEMBER, 1989 AT 11AM
This will be a platform against the Wall at Potsdammer Platz viewing stand.
Here he will charge admission to the platform for those who want to take photos or have photos taken on top of the platform on top of the Wall or walking on the Wall.
This area on which he will setup has been lost by default by the East Germans as the thousands of unpenalized transgressions (art, graffitti, bicycle and foot traffic) show. And it is lost to the West by international treaties.
It is thus available for commercial exploitation.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Sept. 7/89
Dear Dear,
It seems like a while since you wrote. It has been lovely weather. There is a sunset tonight but the building across the street now shuts out most of it.
I am all prepared for tomorrow morning when I will open my commercial enterprise. I rehearsed the putting up of the platform and istalling the sticks for the commercial display. I have the rate printed and on cardboard backing. This will hang from the scaffolding.
I broke down and bought myself a pair of new shoes. And while I was at it I went to an optometrist and got my glasses tightened. I bought an International Herlad Tribune a couple of times and found out that old Khomeini died, the Lord be praised. Looks like the world is coming apart at the seams, referring to the Baltic problems. And they managed to squash the Chinese disturbances. The important thing there is that they are using political tactics. I cannot see the Baltic States developing an army to protect themselves from the Russians. So when there is a settlement it will be a political one.
Sept. 8/9:45 A.M.:
I have just had my breakfast and I made some holes in the signs that will receive the screws for the commercial display sticks. I am feeling real good, green turtleneck, yellow shirt and suit trousers. Gehrt said he is taking three cameras for black and white, and color, and video. The sky is clear and the temperature comfortable.
My posters are already marked up with comments but nothing profound except I can't tell about the German comments.
(2:06 P.M.)
It's over and the next movie is spelled out for me in my pamphlet. I found when I got to Potsdammer Platz that both the city police and the Allied Command were there. I had Jonathan with me to act as an interpreter (the American in the play) and I had Gehrt, the photographer. Photographers accumulated as time went on. There was a goodly crowd of tourists. I had taken the bulky poster of notice of rates and put it in an inconspicuous place behind some other signs, hidden but not invisible. When I arrived this morning, it was gone. I thought, that's no great problem as I can open my business with free service and I had Jonathan explain this to the crowd. I sat on my paint pail with "One Berlin" on it, up on my platform.
The Wall would provide a seat for my guests. About 8 press people came up to straddle the Wall and to take pictures. There were perhaps 20 non-media guests posed for pictures before the DDR got into action. Two soldiers came in a jeep followed by soldiers carrying ladders. The ladders were much too short but one of the soldiers climbed his ladder and grabbed my arm. If he had pulled me off, I would have fallen on him, so I pulled myself down so that he was pulling against the Wall. Then Jonathan and an Allied Command soldier came to my rescue. And I found myself the rope in a tug of war between the East and the West. The East lost out. I had Jonathan tell the soldiers that if they would bring a longer ladder, I would give myself up. They conferred by phone with their superior and said I should give myself up at Checkpoint Charlie. I said I would do that tomorrow. I sat some more with the Wall to myself and a couple came by and had their picture taken. They were unconcerned about the soldiers, but the soldier climbed the ladder and grabbed his arm.
He was so frightened that he pulled his arm away and jumped the 10 feet to the concrete. He evidently suffered no injuries but he got on his bicycle and left as quickly as possible.
Then I saw an accumulation of vehicles developing on the other side of the meadow. When I suggested to Jonathan that it might be discreet to close up shop, he was all for it. He said that I was enticing him into heroics he wasn't prepared for. When we were dismantling the shop, the Allied Command soldiers wanted a chance to threaten me and I insisted that I had no reason to accomodate them. Jonathan said, "In a few minutes the chief would be there." So I was for going back. Then the chief came and the officers all gathered around him. Jonathan said, "Let's go over, " and I said, 'No, they have to come to me,' which they did. The chief was affable and made no threats. A second in command had told me earlier that if I was to set up again, he would have to arrest me. He was also telling me how awful the East German jails were. I said, "Great! I have been trying to get arrested by the Allied Command since I came." It was a great day!
I am now waiting for a newspaper photographer and reporter as I have set up to try and occupy an East German jail. The action will start tomorrow morning at 11:00 o'clock when I will walk into East Berlin..........................
Since:
I went to the Checkpoint Charlie property line and beyond three meters to pass out leaflets. After a bit Gehrt came along (he had to go to the hospital to get an infection on his arm dressed so he, like the other reporters, was no there when the exciting part took place). I wanted to tell him about it before an interpreter so I picked up my pail and leaflets to go with him. As I was leaving, I noticed 6 DDR soldiers coming smartly to the border and I didn't think they were coming just to palaver with me. I think if I had stayed I would have been arrested. So there is a strong possibility that I will be arrested tomorrow by East Germany. I want to take the initiative in any arrest. When I told the East Indian from Ceylon that I was giving myself up for arrest, he was delighted. "Why that's just like Gandhi," he said. This is the end of this pad and perhaps the end of my correspondance from West Berlin.
Lovingly, Sir
_____________________________________________________________________________
Sunday, Sept. 10/89
Hello Dear,
I thought I'd get something off to you tomorrow morning so that you will know that I am not being held by the DDR. The lady officer asked me what I had come for and assured me there was no order for my arrest, which leaves me frustrated in my current effort to manipulate this political entity.
I was invited to the party last night that took place after the opening of the play, "Our Wee Rosa". I was told it was important that I be there. And I was given a ticket to the play. And Dr. Hildebrandt introduced me to the audience that had assembled in the cafe before we went to C.P.C. where a visually pleasing skit was performed outside by the two dancers, Lawrence and Judith. And Dr. Hildebrandt had a party and then to the theater to see the play which I had seen in part at rehearsals. And at the party afterwards I met Judith's father and brother. They are West Germans, not East. They and the mother are all in entertainment and the father talked fluent English and I had a very pleasant conversation with him.
Today I locked myself out of my room at 10 o'clock, when all the staff were away, and I didn't get back in my room until 6:00. So I finished painting the sign on my car and washed it. And went to the wooded area where I lay down in the grass in the sun and dozed and slept for several hours.
I am reading Upton Sinclair's autobiography, written when he was over 80, after writing over 80 books. Fascinating.
I'm in the process of rearranging my future here. I don't want to continue my commercialization of the no-man's-land between the East and the West until I test out on myself the response of the DDR.
And in thinking about this this morning (Monday, Sept. 11) I have summed up what I want to do. There are three projects that I would like to pursue. One is getting the Rammbock out in the city. I will find it an advantage in this case not to have a driver's license, because it, the Rammbock, will get into the hands of the police and then we can campaign to get it out. But since the Allied soldiers held off when I put the staging against the Wall for tourists, they might look the other way while I took it to Potsdammer Platz. In any case it is one place where I can impinge upon the problem. The second is the commercial proposition to pursue. And a third would be the continuous occupation of the DDR through C.P.C. This can be pursued because of their continued refusal to arrest me, and consist of repeated attempts to enter East Berlin for political action.
So what I would like would be to get together some people who would make a video of the three directions that I can pursue now that the Ram is finished and the props are in place for the other efforts.
So I will try and get an audience with Jonathan where I will propose a larger meeting for a video presentation of the political penetration of the Berlin Wall.
This would not have to take place this fall but could be put off until next spring.
Affectionately, John
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Monday, Sept. 11/89
Dear Louise,
I woke up this morning and reviewed the options open to me with respect to the political invasion of East Berlin. And there was enough action to keep me going 'til Christmas. And I felt these actions needed a full time video man and that this could not be had this year. And, besides, I wanted to go home. So I had a clear call to shuck the problems of the world and it made me very happy. Most of all to be going back to you.
So I went to the office to tell Hans and to call Jonathan to ask him to set up a meeting of the people who have helped me at the Museum and interested contacts. And we talked about the video documentary of the political penetration of the Berlin Wall. And he said it was all right so long as he could be the producer. I know nothing about him except his acting of which I am no authority and that he handled his job as a support for my commercial enterprise very competently. And that he is enthusiastic about what I am doing. To be a producer he will have to raise funds, so I said, "I would love to have you for a producer."
Hans called a travel agency to get the schedule and costs of my ticket home. One way it cost 3037 DMs, but a two way ticked will cost 1430 DMs which will be about $800.00. So, needless to say, I will buy the two way ticket. I must find out how long I can stay in the U.S. before my return ticket is invalid.
Sept. 12/89
I have been thinking over your strong response over the fact that I have not paid fare on the U-Bahn for two seasons. Your argument is irreproachable in the context in which you set it.
I came to Berlin and did something that most Berliners were grateful for, but there was no way that this gratefulness could be expressed. So I gave them an opportunity to give me a free ride on the U-Bahn. AND THEY TOOK THIS OPPORTUNITY! There is no question in my mind that the U-Bahn knew that I was riding free. And they had a responsibility to enforce the law. And they refused to carry out that responsibility in my case. I am a very conspicuous person. Not only has there been a continuous string of pictures of me in the newspapers and TV throughout the season, but when I ride I am usually carrying conspicuous paraphernalia. At the Kochstrasse station where I get on almost daily the man or woman at the wicket and I often exchange smiles. I don't think it is a matter of an overt theft but rather the acceptance of a covert gift.
3:30
I was out leafletting at Whitten Platz where I met a journalist who said he had covered the news stories in 1961 with respect to the Wall but was now engaged in writing books. But as he had been following my actions and knew the local scene he would call some newsmen who wrote for the foreign press to his place where I could tell my story next Saturday. He said the United States was quite receptive to foreign news stories. So I won't be able to get away until after then.
I had anticipated that as soon as I said I was going home there might be delays of this kind.
Another German came up and with limited English told me that it was Kennedy that let the Russians build the Wall. And that it was a big mistake and had it been Reagan he would not have allowed the Wall to be built. I wanted to tell him that Reagan would have made other mistakes. That when all the options are mistakes someone is bound to make them. But I didn't have the German and he didn't have the English so we didn't get into an argument.
I put posters on the Wall to tell about the rationale for my business enterprise and they stuck very well and I would like to cover them up with a program for next year. But I haven't got it clear in my mind what, or rather, how to articulate it.....so I will have to do some brainstorming.
What is needed is a plan for the political administration of the Wall until the economies of the two entities can mesh. There has to be something beyond Vulnerable Aggression, a structure that can be described. The reason I cannot articulate it may be because it will have to be invented.
Lovingly, John
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September 14, 1989
The return ticket was only good for 3 weeks, so I bought a return ticket for 2,000 DM. I will return to Berlin on May 15, 1990. I am developing a poster to outline my plans for next summer to leave behind on the Wall.