The Anne Frank Museum

The Netherlands had been neutral during the Great War; and progressive and modern--but a bit naïve--Amsterdam was in for a rude awakening during WWII. In May 1940, Germany began bombing Schiphol Airport as they prepared to invade the Netherlands. When the Dutch army fought back, the Nazis responded by leveling Rotterdam. A week later, the Netherlands surrendered; Queen Wilhelmina fled to Britain; and the Nazis began a five-year occupation.

Our first stop today was this thoughtfully-designed exhibit, which offers thorough coverage of the Frank family story. This is my third visit to the museum--the first being in 1989 before they remodeled the entrance. The museum is a fascinating--and sobering--look at the hideaway of young Anne during the Nazi occupation. Anne, her parents, an older sister, and four others spent more than two years in a "Secret Annex" behind her father's business. While in hiding, as we all know, 13-year-old Anne kept a diary chronicling her extraordinary experience.

One day in August 1944, the Nazis--acting on a tip--arrested the group and sent them to concentration camps in Poland and Germany. It really hits you when you remember that this was after the Normandy landings which signaled the end of the war. Unfortunately, and even though Anne's family knew of the landings, it was not in time to save them. Anne and her sister died of typhus in March of 1945, only weeks before their camp was liberated. Of the eight inhabitants of the Secret Annex, only Anne's father, Otto Frank, survived.

We filed into a meeting room and listened to a really honest and moving presentation from a docent. As she explained, the front part of the building, facing the canal, remained the offices and warehouses in an operating business owned and run by Otto Frank, Anne's father. The back half, where the Franks and others lived, was the Secret Annex, its stairway entrance concealed by a bookcase. All the windows were blacked out so they could not be seen from the street or courtyard and they had to be silent all day--no talking, no flushing, no moving around--so the factory workers below would not hear them.

We were allowed to take photos in this meeting room but not within the annex. We followed many tourists up narrow stairways and through rooms where, for 25 months, the eight Amsterdam Jews hid from Nazi persecution. Really, it was genius--this house behind a house, within a house, tucked within the city in broad daylight. To this day, we still don't know the identity of the person who tipped off the police. And now knowing they were so close to liberation--such a shame.

Sam and I were the last ones out, I think, because I spent so much time taking photos in the meeting room before we headed up the steps. And I have always wanted to buy Anne's book at the museum so I got that crossed off my list. (This might be the last time I'm in Amsterdam.) It came with a commemorative bookmark and a sticker inside the book confirming its purchase at Anne's huis; so I was happy I bought it here.