and Natan returned to Berlin after the violence subsided, they embraced Sara and her mother as if they had not expected to find them safe at home. Quickly Sara and her mother finished the little packing that remained while Natan loaded the borrowed truck. They left the house in such haste that Sara had no time for nostalgic farewells, for pausing in doorways and reminiscing about the happy moments she had spent in each room. By suppertime they were unloading their boxes and suitcases in the new flat in Friedenau.
As she prepared for bed that night, Sara tried to shake off the uncomfortable sensation that she was an itinerant guest in a stranger’s home. To clear away the stale air in a room too long closed up, she opened the window and craned her neck to take in the view along the block. Cars passed on the street below. Several young men Sara’s age strolled by, teasing one of their group about a girl who had spurned him at a bar they had just left. Through the windows of a restaurant down the street, she glimpsed couples dining by candlelight. In the gutters and alleyways, a few traces of broken glass glistened in the lamplight.
The mid-November night was too cold to leave the window open long, but before she closed it, Sara thought she detected the faint scent of char. She assumed it came from one of the two restaurants visible from her room, but the next morning Natan told her the source was probably the Synagogue Prinzregentenstrasse two blocks away, now a gutted ruin choked with ashes.
As the Weitzes were unpacking and settling in, the Nazis issued a series of punitive decrees apparently designed to prevent Jews from living anything resembling a normal life. To the mass arrests, deportations, and enormous fines to pay for the destruction of Kristallnacht, the Reich added a new obligation for Jews to keep their businesses shuttered, but to pay their employees nonetheless and make repairs at their own expense. Beginning January 1, Jews would no longer be allowed to run retail, handicraft, or mail-order businesses, nor could they serve in any position in which they managed personnel. Jewish executives within corporations must be given six weeks’ notice and dismissed. And if the Jews wanted to forget their troubles for a while by enjoying some entertainment, they were on their own, for they were banned from theaters, cinemas, concert halls, museums, sports facilities, and similar public places.
The restrictions kept coming, onerous and unrelenting. The Judenbann was extended to include restaurants that were not run by Jews. In the first week of December, Jews were prohibited to enter government buildings or even to live nearby. In the same decree, they were forbidden to own or operate automobiles or motorcycles. All German Jews were ordered to turn in their driving permits and automobile registration papers by the last day of the year.
“How will we escape to Schloss Federle if we can’t drive?” Sara asked Natan.
“Our plans haven’t changed,” said Natan. “If the police pull us over while we’re fleeing for our lives, being caught without a driving permit will be the least of our problems.”
“But we’re not even allowed to own a car anymore,” said Sara, struggling to contain her rising panic. “Jews have to turn in their registrations. What reason could there be for the Nazis to collect all that paperwork except to let them know where to confiscate the cars?”
Natan thought for a moment. “I have a friend, an auto mechanic. I’ll ask him to keep our car at his garage. If the Nazis come looking for it, we’ll explain that we sold it.”
But even as he was making arrangements, a worse blow fell.
Effective immediately, Jews would be excluded from most of the west side of Berlin, including the Tiergarten and important thoroughfares such as Unter den Linden, Wilhelmstrasse, Leipzigerstrasse, Kurfürstendamm, and Friedrichstrasse. They would need a police permit to travel through the area, and therefore Jews with homes in the area were encouraged to trade residences with Aryan Germans living elsewhere. The ban would not cover neighborhoods in central and northern Berlin, poorer blocks already heavily populated by Jews, creating a ghetto roughly defined by Linienstrasse and Grenadierstrasse.
The Weitzes found little comfort in knowing that their flat in Friedenau fell just outside the Judenfrei zone. A ban, once created, could easily be expanded.
On the last day of the year, the Weitzes relinquished their driving permits, but they entrusted the car registration and ownership