Scary Story, Part 2, from another friend:
I have a very funny story about Checkpoint Charlie. My father was born and raised in Berlin, and left in 1939. He moved to the U.S and became involved in highly secretive defense industry that sometimes crossed into CIA. I recorded albums in Berlin from 1987 – 2002 and used to maintain an apartment on a small street that was until the Berlin wall came down a deadend street. I often went to Hannover, where I was working with some other bands, and therefore had to travel back and forth by car, and would enter Berlin through Checkpoint Charlie.
We went through Check Point Charlie. It was very intimidating. People were pulled out of line at random. Some were searched; some led away. We did not know why. (The females were strip-searched) A fellow behind us kept making nasty remarks about the East Germans. He was from Yugoslavia and they had the most freedom at that time. I was worried the East German officials would think we were with him.
A very nasty looking matron was pulling women aside. I remember her X-raying a hairbrush. They were suspicious of everyone.
We had to “exchange money.” There was a minimum. I recall the coins were so light that I wondered what they were made of. We were informed of a curfew and would have to return to the west. (No curfew when I went, though 24 hours was the limit before American soldiers would come looking for you).
The east was a stark contrast from the west. The first thing I noticed was that there weren’t any people on the streets. It was as if everyone was carried off. (The few people on the streets were old or homeless). Police were present in what looked to be phone booths but they were heated cubicles.
We saw stores but there was little in them. (Not the case when I went, just nothing you would want to buy). There were propaganda posters showing families looking into the camera and smiling on their group vacations.
The Soviet police were ubiquitous along with the East Germans. We wanted to go into a museum of sorts but were put off by all the Russians who were not looking very welcoming.
We soon found out that the money we exchanged was worthless. (Not true for me, we bought food and beer). No one would take it. They wanted “western money.” (A few people on the street wanted to buy/exchange west German marks). We were turned away at a restaurant. Later, we learned from a French friend that one discretely slips western currency to the head waiter and one could be seated. (We had the pretty hippie gal with us, so no problem!!) We did not know this.
We walked around dismal buildings. It was very grey. (Very Soviet in appearance). No people were evident. We found a cafeteria. It was a working class place. We went in and were allowed to purchase a disgusting meal with horrid beer. (I thought the beer was okay).
It was odd because we noticed we were the only people talking. It was dead silent. This is because every fourth person was employed by the Stasi as a spy. No one talked in public. (Remember this is where Putin worked for the KGB).
We had more money than we could spend. Curfew was approaching. We caught the U-Baun back to the border. The only person riding it was a policeman.
During this time the East Germans were broadcasting 24/7 across The Wall. Constant propaganda flowed and there were lights sweeping the area.
It was a scene right out of a spy movie. We walked down a long path with high concrete walls. Lights and guards were on top of the walls watching us. It was eerie.
When we went to cross, we were asked what we did. Well, not much. We were asked if we had any money. We did. You couldn’t spend it. Then things became difficult.
We were told we couldn’t cross back with the money. B-man told the official to “keep it.” The official accused us of trying to bribe him. This was serious. The curfew was approaching and being caught in the east was a very bad idea.
I intervened and asked the man what he suggested we do with the money. He wasn’t going to take it, we couldn’t have it and curfew was approaching. There had to be a way out of this mess.
He told me I could “buy coffee.” I replied I couldn’t possibly drink that much coffee. I asked for another suggestion. It was 23:30 and we had to be over the border by midnight.
Later, we learned that one leaves the money for someone to find. It’s all a game. You “pay” to get over to the east. No one wants the money. I wish we’d left it on the street for some poor soul to find. (I spent all of mine).
I am glad we crossed as it can not be done today. Berlin was a lively city, full of spies and intrigue and the west was open 24/7. (West Berlin was fun, lots of night clubs for young people, interesting places to hang out and meet people).
PS: Thank you to my friend, “D” and “R” who shared the bulk of their stories with me.
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