Before I Tumble

If walls could talk they'd probably have a lot to say. Or maybe not, who needs another voice in the crowd? I don't even know if you can hear me now, it's so loud out here!

Listen closely, I don't have a lot of time. I'm going to have to speak quickly. Try to ignore all the music and the young people and concentrate on my words.

They've got David Hasselhoff here, singing. I swear, if his is the last voice I hear in song, I'm going to be angry! Come on, it's December 31, 1989, I'm about to come down. My gates were opened early last month.

I've stood here for almost 30 years and the best you can bring me is David Hasselhoff? Wow. I know he's a big deal over here, but, really? Where's U2? That Bono loves this political stuff, I'd have thought he'd have been here with bells on.

Truth be told, I'm not a huge fan of either. But hey, I'm just the wall. And music isn't what I'm here to talk about.

I want to tell you a bit about two dear friends of mine, Magda and Hank. Nice people, they are.

Back when I was just coming up, they were sweethearts. I don't know all the details, just that they were young and in love.

Magda finished school and went to work as a nanny for the Krautz family. Good people. They had 3 children. I don't recall their names. But I do remember that Mr. Krautz was a doctor of some sort, a specialist, and that his wife tired easily.

Magda was the answer to their prayers. Keen, bright, and full of that pure love for children that is so true and so rare you can't help but adore her.

Hank was tall, handsome, and broad, with a childlike quality that both fascinated and infuriated Magda. She loved him dearly, as he did her, but his antics often wore on her. He was the class clown at school, smart enough, but a little too intent on going his own way, if you know what I mean.

And then there was me. I came between them. I didn't mean to, but I did. I don't know the ins and outs, like I said, I was still coming up. All I know for sure is Hank and his family lived and remained on the East side of Berlin and of me, and Magda was more a west side story.

I don't mean to speak for them, but being young, I don't think they understood the gravity of what was unfolding at the time. At least, they didn't until it was said and done.

For years, Magda would come. She'd place her hands on me. She'd tape notes on me. Love notes, desperate messages of her undying devotion to Hank. Notes he'd never see. And she'd cry. It hurt to see her almond-shaped green eyes full of tears almost every day.

Hank came too. But he never got too close. He just stood, solemn, steadfast, with a look of painful loneliness on his face. He could never get close enough. Barbed wire and armed guards, he stood well back.

He almost started to believe she was his enemy. She, the same.

The visits stopped.

I had no idea what happened to either of them. I figured they both got on with their lives.

Until last month. It was November 9, 1989. Egon Krenz, the new leader of East Germany opened the gates. Checkpoint Charlie, Brandenburg, all of them!

Magda came. She stood at that gate for hours and hours on end. It was cold, I remember that. But she wasn't the only one, there were hundred waiting with bated breath for long-lost loved ones.

I watched as a man gingerly crossed over the East-West boundary. He was tall and thin. His face was heavily lined but the hint of the boy he was remained. I can't tell you how exactly. I suppose it was the twinkle in his eyes.

And Magda waited. She was no longer 19. She was 50. Her blonde hair had faded into grey and her once slender build was a little less, well, slim.

She didn't pay him much attention as he stepped through my gate. Honestly, I think she was so caught up in the past that she didn't expect the passage of time on some level.

Well, except that she'd pinned a photo of herself from 1960 on her peacoat. So, she did understand how many years had passed. But that's life, isn't it? We understand that time waits for none, but we tend to judge others more harshly than we do ourselves.

Hank saw her almost immediately. He didn't need the old photo. He fell to the ground and cried out to her, "Magda, my love!" Right in front of me.

She ran to him and they embraced. They sobbed and kissed. It was beautiful, but it was just like hundreds of other people reconnecting with loved ones. For me, though, I don't know, these two touched me.

I didn't know it was the beginning of the end for me at that time. I didn't care. I was just happy to see families and lovers reunited.

I listened in to Magda and Hank as they caught up. Magda had become a teacher. She married once, but it didn't work out. She had no children and lived in a tidy West Berlin townhome.

Hank was a civil servant who never married. He enjoyed playing chess and reading in his spare time.

And if you could have seen them! It was like no time had passed at all, The cold air faded around them, or melted, I'm not sure.

Then nothing. I didn't see either of them for weeks. Until tonight.

Ouch! Sorry, some kid with spikey hair and black boots took a chunk out of me with a small pickaxe. It hurt like hell! That happens from time to time.

Seriously, how long can David Hasselhoff go? Ugg! I'm not trying to be mean here but, I'm kinda a big deal. I'm coming down and you can't even get me Elton John? George Michael? Paul Simon? Anyone? No? Okay, apparently I'm not as big a deal as I thought I was.

Pink Floyd? No? Funny, I thought maybe The Wall would be hilarious in that ironic sort of way. Okay, well this hurts more than the chunks being chiseled from my body.

OMG, look! Hank is on one knee. He's proposing, he's actually doing it! God I wish Hasselhoff wasn't the soundtrack to this, but it seems like maybe it's just me.

She said yes!!!!!!

Oww! Sorry, another goth wannabe with a sharp object taking a piece of me. Ow!

This hurts!

Okay, let's wrap this up. Oww, stop that! David, shut up! I don't have much time. I was built to divide people and I have to come down to unite them. I'm okay with it.

Looking at Magda and Hank, gazing into each others' eyes with such love, her with his ring on her finger after all these years. Seeing all these people hugging their loved ones. I can't be sad.

I'd love to know what happens to Magda and Hank in the future. I'm sure I'll be nothing but rubble, but I would really like to know. Did they finally marry? Are they happy? Is David Hasselhoff still a thing?

That's all I wanted to say. Ouch! Another jab, a huge chunk. I have to go. If there is an afterlife, I guess you'll tell me what happened.