I hadn’t planned to visit the Anne Frank House, given my short time in town and the long queue around the block. But the weather was gloomy in Antwerp and I was back in Amsterdam earlier than expected. And as it turns out, Anne had been hiding just two blocks from my hotel.
I didn’t read Anne Frank’s diary until I was in my twenties. It was one of those books that slipped through the cracks of my ESL years. Perhaps as a result of reading it as an adult, while I admired the witty optimism and tenaciousness of Anne, Otto Frank stood out as the unsung hero of the story. Perhaps taken for granted as his daughter at such a young age, his character and strength nevertheless permeates throughout her narrative. As the leader of the group, it was his courage that led them into hiding, his prescient preparation that made it possible to hide such a large group, and his meticulous and methodical way of running the annex that allowed them to survive for so long. He must have been a kind and respected boss, to enlist four helpers who for two long years supported them through increasingly difficult and dangerous times. He proved to be a generous friend, inviting others into hiding even though they barely had enough space for themselves. And even in those difficult times, he would not let his children drop their education. Margot received her Latin correspondence course, and Anne lessons from himself. Then there were the little things. Remembering Anne’s postcard collection so her walls wouldn’t be so dreary, when there must have been countless other important items to check as he planned their hiding.
But in the end, all the things he did to save his family and friends was destroyed with a single betrayal, and he never even found a culprit to blame. I guess in those times the word blame is too simple and insignificant to mean anything to anyone. He was left alone in the world to mourn the empty space they left, and perhaps wonder a thousand times everyday why it was him that survived. I suddenly find myself ashamed for even attempting to imagine what he felt.
Yet he somehow persevered, finding a cause in publishing Anne’s diary, fighting against the demolition of the house where they hid, and leaving a legacy that few can surpass in founding this museum. He did have one request, that the rooms be left empty as the day the SS came to take everything away, as a reminder of the empty spaces that the people who would never come back.
There is a photo of Otto Frank near the end of the tour. He stands behind the wooden pillar where Margot and Anne’s heights were carved, looking down in contemplation or remembrance. A video of an interview is playing in the background, where he talks about how a parent could never know the deep thoughts of their child. He did not realize just how much Anne had grown up during those two years. His Anne would always remain the child in the secret annex, and perhaps he never escaped from there either.
In 1999 Emma Thompson gave a speech at an event where she said the following:
The only thing we have to remember is: all her would-haves are our real possibilities. All her would-haves are our opportunities. And the book’s a flame, a torch, we can light our own candles and take them and illuminate our hearts with the incandescence of her spirit.
As the world fawns over fictional heroines like Hermione and Katniss today, I’m glad I had a chance to revisit the true heroic story of one family. May we all cherish the opportunities Anne should would have had.
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