The Wall Crossers

December 1972 - Bob Reary - South Park District, NC

Olivia's perspective (1972)

I am living with my parents in South Park District, NC, and am enrolled full-time in technical college.

How is it that I married Leida on sixteenth of January of this year, and now, a few months later, I am alone?

Lizet's perspective (2021)

Dear Reader, do you now earnestly regret reading the first perspective of this chapter? But you must have known Patrizia Becker's imperative from my Geweldige oma (great grandma) Elisabeta would lead to tragedy for my Oma Olivia, Ja? If you could apply, in the words of my Oma Olivia, an amnesia bandage, to your brain, and forget this chapter for good, would you then be happy enough knowing mijn twee oma's (my two grandmas) were married and Patrizia Becker had evil intent and let us now forget this story while we are quite ignorant of further outcomes?

It is my belief that you would not be happy because the matter of Patrizia Becker's disposition and her influence on my omas would likely trouble you for the rest of your life!

So read on, and either weep, or experience an attachment to the joy of knowing the truth... or both!

Geena's perspective (2021)

Ku zuk zang po la (Hello in Bhutanese) Readers Dears! I am Geena! Only, truly, I am not really Geena but will reveal now what your author she believes I would say if interviewed today in this current year, 2021. And in fact, she will actually be interviewing me quite soon!

Really, no matter how bleak, there is always hope, okay? Stories never end, but circle back to close, truly in satisfying ways.

I loved her in the beginning, and I have loved her throughout all of those many years! There really is Mófǎ (magic) in knowing that some things they will truly never change, and so you must remember to never be uptight, because of this, okay?

So do not be dismayed, yeah? You will meet me soon enough in this story and you will truly remember these encouraging words, that I now have said to you, when things they may seem difficult and near-at-hand endings appear to really sway toward very very harsh.

Olivia's perspective – a cleaned-up transcription of recounting very difficult memories to a friend

It is hard for me to talk about this, but I will, now.

It is December of 1972. I have been home from Berlin for almost eleven months.

Life has smoothed out some, for me... but only some. I have regressed to using a name that conforms me to the expectations of friends here at home, family, the world. But, you know, a name can let you be who you are, or it can make you appear to be who you are not.

Reflecting on that day, almost a year ago, the sixteenth of January, in Berlin... it was a catastrophic day—the worst ever. What happened, after Leida and I were married by the Provost Marshal, was—unbelievably horrifying, devastating. My soul was crushed, hope drained, warrior girl spirit blown away. The spirit was dismayed that I could put myself at risk of such loss. The spirit left me.

I departed Berlin, alone, finally, on twenty-second January and arrived at Fort Dix that day. For several more days, due to paperwork complications, I was a holdover, pending disposition. On the twenty-seventh I was processed out of the Army, and that same day, I was on a plane to NC.

When I got home, everyone was joyful—family, friends, celebrating. I went to church with my mother and sister. Everyone congratulated me. I had survived the war—a war that even yet at that time continued to draw young blood. They all asked me, How was Berlin? I bet it was such a fun experience! They did not know. They did not know me. I pretended to be someone else—the person they once knew and expected me to be once more. I acted out that role, told them all to call me Bob, no longer Bobbie. They could understand that much, but nothing more. I did not push or try for acceptance of the truth.