Another View of the Nazi Party Rally Grounds

Group travel isn’t necessarily conducive to spontaneous opportunities, yet this is one of my favorite aspects of travel. So, when Ashley’s host family invited me to tag along with them during our one free day in Nurnberg, I couldn’t resist. The Dinstuehlers took us to nearby Weissenburg, where we were able to soak in the atmosphere of a charming Franconian village as well as see the remains of an ancient Roman bathhouse dating back to the turn of the first century. We visited both the Roman museum and the museum dedicated to the town of Weissenburg, with stops for cappuccinos and “spaghetti” ice cream in between. We later toured Ellingen Castle and sampled the offerings at the beer garden across the street. Ina Dinstuehler and her mom Birgit were perfect hosts, sweetly and patiently showing us all the sites I’m sure they’ve seen a hundred times before. They were generous in more ways than one, refusing to let us pay for anything, insisting that this was “the German way.” As the leader of an organization that prides itself on the hospitality it offers international guests, I was once again humbled to be on the receiving end.

Mr. and Mrs. Dinstuehler happened to have tickets that evening to see the Bavarian Youth Jazz Orchestra, which they kindly offered to us. The concert took place in a beautiful outdoor setting . . . inside what was once the Nazi Party Rally Grounds. Our group had toured this area a few days before during our visit to the Nazi Documentation Center. The Center analyzes the Nazi phenomenon, challenging us to understand the fascination and terror behind the Third Reich—how it came to be and how we can prevent such atrocities from ever happening again.

I remembered hearing somewhere that old Nazi sites had been converted to venues for arts and culture. In this case, part of the former Nazi Party Rally Grounds had been carved out to house the Nurnberg Symphony Orchestra. Ina said that there was a lot of debate about what to do with these buildings. That destroying them might indicate that Germans were trying to hide this horrific chapter of Germany history, but that simply leaving the buildings as abandoned ruins wouldn’t allow the German people to move through the devastation to a new place of growth and understanding.

The concert’s setting couldn’t have been more lovely. We were in an open-air courtyard surrounded by tall brick walls decorated with twinkling lights, climbing ivy, and trees chattering in the breeze. “Now you will see how Germans listen to music,” Ina said. “They sit perfectly still and look like they are not enjoying it, but the music is deep inside them.” She was right. The orchestra members, all 16 and younger, were accomplished jazz musicians. I let my mind relax and my toes tap to “Moondance” and “Over the Rainbow.” We could hear the birds chirping in between numbers, and as the big brass built up a crescendo the leaves on the trees danced.

With the possible exception of myself, the only other person who was most obviously enjoying the music was Harald Ruschenbaum, the group’s director. Herr Ruschenbaum grooved with contagious enthusiasm as he coaxed energetic jazz classics from the youth. A man who clearly loved his work, he grabbed a cowbell more than once and enthusiastically played along. I thought about how fitting it was to transform this place with the positive energy of music, and how lucky I was (right here, right now) to be hearing this quintessentially American music performed by an orchestra of talented Germany youth.

As the evening drew to a close, the band played a song I didn’t know, something about saying goodbye when we don’t know when we’ll get to say hello again. My new German friend and I looked at each other at the same time and made a wish that our next hello would be sooner rather than later.