These can be attributed to the fact that Niemöller spoke extemporaneously and in a number of settings. ![]() Different versions of the quotation exist. The quotation stems from Niemöller's lectures during the early postwar period. Then they came for me-and there was no one left to speak for me. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out-because I was not a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out- because I was not a trade unionist. Niemöller is perhaps best remembered for the quotation 1:įirst they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out-because I was not a socialist. Following the meeting, Niemöller would come to see the Nazi state as a dictatorship, one which he would oppose. It was also clear that the Pastors Emergency League (PEL), which Niemöller had helped found, was under close state surveillance. At the meeting it became clear that Niemöller's phone had been tapped by the Gestapo (German Secret State Police). But a turning point in Niemöller's political sympathies came with a January 1934 meeting of Adolf Hitler, Niemöller, and two prominent Protestant bishops to discuss state pressures on churches. Niemöller enthusiastically welcomed the Third Reich. In 1920, he decided to follow the path of his father and began seminary training at the University of Münster. Along with many others, Niemöller refused to obey this order, and was, as a consequence, discharged from the Navy. Under the stipulations of the armistice of November 11, 1918, that ended hostilities in World War I, Niemöller and other commanders were ordered to turn over their U-Boats to England. With the outbreak of World War I in 1914, Niemöller was assigned to a U-Boat, of which he was eventually appointed the commander. ![]() ![]() In 1910 he became a cadet in the Imperial German Navy. Martin Niemöller was born in the Westphalian town of Lippstadt, Germany, on January 14, 1892.
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“Here you are,” I’ll say to a sixteen-year-old. And for that they deserve a token of my gratitude. Real fun is right at their fingertips, but instead of taking bong hits in a stolen car, or getting pregnant in a neighbor’s toolshed, they’ve come to a bookstore to hear a middle-aged man read out loud. But they provide only so many, and with a good-sized crowd you’re empty-handed before you know it.Īdults get something for special occasions, but the bulk of my presents go to teen-agers, who qualify by virtue of their very existence. Say it’s someone’s birthday or anniversary: I always offer the shampoos and conditioners taken from my hotels. There the packets might cost two dollars each, but here the entire display-maybe a hundred and fifty doses-went for just twelve bucks.Īt home, I’d buy a bottle of Bufferin or ibuprofen and leave it at that, but when I’m on tour it’s packets I need-not for myself but to give as gifts to the people who’ve come to see me. It looked like something you’d see behind the counter at a gas station. Pills were paired into single-serving envelopes, then stapled in rows to a bright sheet of poster board. At Costco, though, I’d found displays of pain relievers: Anacin, Bayer, Tylenol. Their merciless lighting, their stench of rubber and cheap molded plastic-it’s not the way I normally like to shop. Living in cities, it’s easy to avoid the big-box superstores. “Anyone game for a quick ride to Costco?” he asked, and before he could even find his keys I was panting, doglike, beside the front door. I was spending the weekend with my sister Lisa, gearing up for six weeks of travel, when her husband, Bob, expressed a need for light bulbs. The first one I went to was in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. ![]() The landscape, though, has changed since then, and it’s telling that on this latest tour I started and finished at a Costco. ![]() The ones I’d undertaken in the past began in one independent or chain store, and ended, a month or so later, in another. If anything should be bracketed by matching bookends, I suppose it’s an author tour. |
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