23 The Way Things Were

Hans-Jürgen Schlüter is the brother of Reiner Schlüter. He and his wife, Ursula Höhle Schlüter, also live on the former Ho-Chi-Minh Strasse in a modern apartment a block or two away from the Ortlieb family. After raising their own family of children to be committed members of the Church, they recently accepted into their apartment a young boy in need of a home. He is a student in Sister Schlüter’s elementary school class.

Hans-Jürgen: We met at our branch meeting place on Dr.-Kurt-Fischer Allee, which we can now call our old branch house. We felt very much at home there. The prophet [Spencer W. Kimball] visited there on one occasion. And we experienced many momentous events in our country while we were there. But one day the word came to us that we were to have a temple here in East Germany, and we told ourselves that we should get prepared. We tried to prepare ourselves but probably too slowly, and suddenly the temple was there. There were many who were not prepared to enter the temple and had to see what they could do to make up for lost time in their preparations.

The next thing we knew was that we were to have a new chapel. Again we told ourselves we had to get prepared, that we had to do this and do it better than we had in the old chapel so everything would work out well, so we would feel at home there, so we would worship more devotedly—and we tried. From time to time, we watched the progress of the building, and suddenly, it was finished, and we were busy preparing for an open house. Many, many people came. They stood in long lines to come through our new chapel, and we were very proud and very happy that we were permitted to belong to this church, to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

So we had experienced many wonderful things in our new chapel. Then one day we were told that an Apostle would visit us, Elder Dallin H. Oaks. Elder Oaks came, and many other authorities. Then we were told that we were to have missionaries in our ward, and one day there they were—two young men. The young women would say two handsome young men, Elder Powley and Elder Smith. When President Paul introduced them he called them “top missionaries.” They had already been tried in another mission, and they really were top missionaries. As it says in the scriptures, they thrust in their sickle with all their might, and within nine months about one hundred people had been baptized.

Well, this new building had put me into a very interesting situation. Where I worked there were a few who worked alongside me who knew that I went to church, and they knew what church I went to. But the times were not right for me to just come out and say, “I’m a Mormon. I go here, and I do this and that.” One said such things only to very intimate friends. Then one day I returned from a trip associated with my work. It was the custom where I worked that whenever there was any cultural event or outing, an announcement was passed around. It said what was up, and whoever wanted to participate just added his or her name to the list. I had been away on this trip, and when I came back, there was an announcement on my desk that said, “Who would like to come on a tour of the new church building of the Mormons of the Latter-day Saints?” It wasn’t written out very correctly, but it went through me like a bolt of lightning. I thought, “This can’t be.” I knew that the building was under construction, and in fact the rough construction was about completed. Of course, I signed up and had to go along.

I thought to myself, “How can I do this? How can I open my mouth?” (I had prayed to the Lord many times about it.) How can I speak out without making mistakes and tell people who I really am so that everyone will understand, and in a way that will not make me ashamed of myself and of the entire situation?” Now I saw the opportunity. So I signed up, and the day came.

Before the tour, I went to the person who had organized it and said, “What is this tour all about. What do you want to see there? Are you interested in the building or also in the Church itself?” “Well, the building, and well, the Church, too.” “OK,” I said, “I can tell you a few things about it.” “What do you mean? Are you a member of that church?” I said, “You bet, dyed in the wool through and through. Just let me know. I’ll be happy to lead a group through anytime you want.” But he didn’t dare do that and said no more about it.

The day of the tour came, and we were all in the building. The building contractor took us around. He was not a Mormon and was just saying this and that. I prayed fervently to Father in Heaven to please help me understand where it would be proper and appropriate to say something. I kept having the feeling, not yet, not yet. We went through as much of the building as we could, saw everything, and the tour was over. The building contractor got a little tip, and we were all standing around, and suddenly it came to me, Now you have to say something. I said, “Now we have seen the rough construction of this lovely building, as far as it is completed, and I am willing and prepared to take you on another tour when it is finished.” My immediate supervisor’s mouth fell open. “How’s that?” I said, “Sure, I’m a member of this church, and I am an authorized representative and can tell you about it. I’d be glad to.”

The director of our group, like all the other group directors, wanted to finish off the tour with a drink or two, and they knew and had known for a long time that I wouldn’t go with them, that I didn’t drink. Now this fellow was always very interested in this part of the celebration, the drinking part, but on this particular day, he wouldn’t go with them. He wanted to ride home with me on the bus because we lived in the same direction. On the way home, he asked about this and about that and wanted to know everything from me. Later I gave him a Book of Mormon, but he hinted that he couldn’t change. I don’t know what the reason was, maybe it had something to do with the secret police. In any case, I gave him a Book of Mormon, and after he looked at the title page and saw that it was printed in Frankfurt, West Germany, he gave it right back to me. He was probably a little nervous and cautious. But all these experiences in the ward building made a deep impression on me.

Then in 1988, I had the opportunity to visit the USA and to attend general conference in Salt Lake City. The first day after my return I was asked, along with my family, to help with the open house in the new chapel. We were very excited and enthusiastic about helping as a family with the open house. There were many, many visitors, and I saw a lot of people who knew me. There were some from my work and also another colleague who was a big member of the Communist Party. “We didn’t know you were a member of a church,” he said. “Well, no one ever asked me about it, but now you know, don’t you?”

After that the word got around that I was a member of the Church, and several people wanted to have a tour of the new chapel. “How about it?” they said. “OK,” I said. “I’ll be glad to do it, but I can’t guarantee that I can get you straight in. There will be a line there; I don’t want anyone to get upset if we have to stand in line with the others and wait our turn.” They patiently waited in line, and when we were all inside, I gave them a tour through the building. They asked a lot of questions, and I asked my group to assemble and have a seat in the chapel. That would be a better place to answer questions. In a flash, the chapel was filled. They listened very attentively and asked question after question. But then others wanted to get into the chapel, so my time was limited, and I had to break it off and then conclude the tour with my group.

We had arranged the open house so that we would get about 100 or 150 people together in the cultural hall and show a video. The visitors came out of the cultural hall very serious and then left the building. The video talked about the purpose of life, and this gave many of them something to think about. Of course, as soon as they were out of the building and didn’t have the immediate influence of the Holy Ghost—maybe when someone on the bus stepped on their toe or something like that—then the Spirit left them. But at least many, many people in Dresden heard about the Church in this way.

The location of our chapel is so favorable; I’m sure this was inspiration because it is right next to the huge park in the center of Dresden, where many people go walking on the weekends, and our elders and sisters can thrust in their sickle. Many people have joined the Church, and we are very enthusiastic about the work.

Hans-Jürgen Schlüter and Ursula Höhle Schlüter with family. Back row, left to right: Uwe Schmidt; Annelies Höhle, mother of Ursula (see chapter 24); Ursula Schlüter; Hans-Jürgen Schlüter; Berriet Steuer; Olaf Steuer. Middle row: Birgit Schmidt; Carina Schlüter, fourth from left; Edith Schlüter, mother of Hans-Jürgen, third from right; Winfried Höhle, right end (see chapter 24). Dresden, 1994. Courtesy Schlüter family.

G. Davis: So much for the Church today. Can you tell us something about the history of the Church in this country? What was it like to grow up here, say, in the 1950s and 1960s? What sort of restrictions did you have? What kind of a relationship to the government? How did you feel as a member of the Church?

Hans-Jürgen: Gladly. I was born in Warnemünde, right on the Baltic coast, and in my parents’ house only my mother was a member of the Church. My father was not a member. He was Catholic. Before the end of the war, my mother and my brothers and sisters and I all went into Rostock together to church. There were four children in our family. We held sacrament meeting in a home there in Rostock, in the home of Brother and Sister Stöckich. The Rotenberg family was there and several others. Those were nice times. I was about seven or eight years old. My father was the chief engineer at the Warno docks in Warnemünde. He was there when I was baptized in the Baltic Sea. By coincidence my [future] wife was baptized on the same day. Brother Wächtler baptized me, and my father-in-law baptized my wife. That was a memorable day and a marvelous experience for us. My father observed all of this, and then when my sister was to be baptized (she is two years younger than I) my father said out of the blue, “I want to be baptized too.”

Then we had to leave Warnemünde because of the troubles there. We went first to Oderberg—that is near Bad Freienwalde, Eberswalde—and then came to Dresden. And here in Dresden my father [Wilhelm Schlüter] was the Sunday School president for many years, and then for twelve or thirteen years, I think, he was the “branch president,” as he always put it. He didn’t want to be called “bishop.” He was very shy, a very shy man. He was also, I would say, a good example and a very good bishop. His two counselors were both bishops in Dresden after his death. So, he had a progeny, so to speak. That was Brother Ortlieb and Brother Manfred Heller. But now back to the Rostock days.

My father came into contact with Brother Heinz Winter, who had been a missionary there, and they became great friends. He was a man who loved action, Heinz Winter was, so he said, “We can’t always be traveling all the way to Rostock. We’ve go to see to it that we have our own branch in Warnemünde.” So he bought an empty barrack and built up a branch. Those days are the most beautiful memories I have in the Church, when we had that little tiny branch.

I learned a lot in those days that contributed to my personal development, and I made a lot of progress. I think I was about nine or ten years old then, maybe eleven when I received my first calling in the Church, branch clerk. I remember so well; it is stuck in my memory that I always had to count the number present at the meetings. That wasn’t much, but then I had to add them up at the end and write, “Total.” I spelled “total” with two “l”s, and he corrected me, only one “l.” Those are little things that get stuck in the memory.

As I said, we had wonderful times. We were like a large family.

G. Davis: How many members?

Hans-Jürgen: We were all together: my parents’ family—six persons—then there was my grandmother, that makes seven; then Brother and Sister Winter—four in their family; Brother and Sister Siebert and their daughter. Brother Siebert was a pilot on a ship and was often at sea. And there were always some visitors there. Then we had another brother. I don’t remember where he came from anymore, but I remember that he claimed that he never made a mistake and that he was pure. That gave me a lot to think about in those days. It also became the topic of some discussion, but then he didn’t come back to church anymore. I guess he found a little worm in his apple somewhere. Some members came over from Rostock now and then to visit, from the big branch to the little branch of Warnemünde. But those were wonderful, wonderful days, and I like to think back on them. That was the pure gospel.

Perhaps I should mention that after 1945 I learned the magnitude of the work in the Church. The Church helped to save us—I won’t say from starvation, but at least helped save us from serious illness. Of course only a small part of what was sent into East Germany got to the members. Most of it was divided up among the Communists and the Red Army. But we got some of it, and even today my wife and I have fond memories of the gunny sacks and the canned peaches. And when we had wheat, we cooked the wheat in water until it turned to mush, and then we poured a little cream and some of the peaches over it. Oh, that still makes my mouth water. That was something marvelous.

I was so thankful when I later visited Salt Lake City that I could see the Deseret Industries and could talk with the brothers and sisters who were working there and could tell them about my experiences. I wanted to volunteer to work there for a day or so, but I was told that the work was all divided out. Maybe someday I can do that so that I can demonstrate a little of my gratitude in the form of work.

But then came a day that was very decisive for my parents and for our whole family. It was getting harder and harder for the Church—more and more problems. Now we know that the secret police were mixed up in it and made things difficult. We now know that there were mass arrests. People were sent to places similar to concentration camps. Many were executed; many starved to death or died of diseases. My parents and Brother and Sister Winter had agreed to leave the country. “We’re getting out!” “Getting out” meant first of all getting into what was then called the Western Zone of Occupation, now the Federal Republic of Germany, and from there maybe farther away.

By some accident, I learned about their plans. I have to say that I was very patriotic about our area. I was very proud of my homeland, my Warnemünde. And when I heard about their plans, I said to myself, “You have to do something to see that they don’t leave Warnemünde.” I had a little cold at the time and saw my chance. When they took my temperature, I rubbed the thermometer a little so that it went up. Then my parents said, “Oh, we can’t go with you now. We’re sorry, but Hans-Jürgen has a high fever. He is very sick.”

I have often wondered what would have happened if I had not done that. Maybe we would have been better off materially, would have had it better. But I think what I did was the right thing because we feel very comfortable here in our country now, and the progress we have made here we could never have made somewhere else. Well, if I hadn’t done that, we would probably be in the United States today, but I think it was right, even if it was a little deceptive.

Then we were alone there, and my father was taken in by the secret police. He was really being pressured because he had recommended Heinz Winter at the harbor and now he was gone. He had got out—“fled to the Republic,” as they say of people who went to West Germany—and now my father was really worked over. He told me on his deathbed that he never knew there were other rooms in the building where he worked. A door was closed behind him. Further down a hallway another door closed behind him, further and further in until he was in this room. There they grilled him very thoroughly. Then they made him an offer. “Well, there is a possibility, maybe you could just. . . .” He was supposed to keep an eye on one person or another and submit a report, etc. And then he said to them, my father told me this word for word, “Out of the question.” He would not be a fink and rat on his friend. He used a vulgar German word [Kammeradenanscheisser], which meant that he wouldn’t betray anyone.

After that they made more and more problems for him, made things more and more difficult so that finally we moved away from Warnemünde to Oderberg. That was an inland dock. There we were really alone. There was no church anywhere nearby. But that also has a lovely spot in the memory of my childhood.

There was a small branch in Eberswalde, but Eberswalde was about twenty kilometers away from Oderberg. So then, every Sunday the whole family got on their bicycles very early and biked over to Eberswalde. We attended the meetings there and then biked back. There were very few days, even in the winter or even in bad weather, when we missed a meeting. We did this every Sunday, and I have fond memories of it. I was allowed to take my little brother, who is twelve years younger than I, on my bike. Along the way, we took a rest and ate a bite in order to build up our energy again. It was truly a beautiful time.

Then they began to build up the airplane industry here in Dresden and were looking for people who had experience. Before 1945 my father worked on airplane construction in Warnemünde with the Arado company, who built sea planes. He applied and was hired, and we moved here to Dresden.

And then here in Dresden, from out of the past, suddenly there was Ursula Höhle, the one I was baptized with in the Baltic Sea. At that time she was a very thin, one could say, a skinny girl.

G. Davis: [To Ursula] Is he telling the truth?

Hans-Jürgen: That’s right. She wasn’t too interesting to me at the time, but when I got to Dresden I thought to myself, “Hmm, there is a pretty interesting girl.”

G. Davis: She came to Dresden before you did?

Hans-Jürgen: She was from Dresden. She just came up to the Baltic Sea to be baptized.

G. Davis: But why weren’t you baptized here in Dresden?

Ursula: We were on vacation. It was in the summer, and I had just had my eighth birthday. I was baptized in the Baltic on my eighth birthday. And it was just a coincidence that he was there.

G. Davis: But you hadn’t known one another before that?

Ursula: No. We became acquainted at church. His parents often invited us over when they had some wheat, and we ate with them, and so it came about that we became acquainted with one another. And my mother always told me that I said, “I like Hans-Jürgen. I think I’ll marry him someday.”

Hans-Jürgen: Yes, it’s very strange how things in life turn out sometimes. If we had left then, I would not have had the family I have now of which I am so proud. During those days in Dresden, the Church took on a new meaning for me. Everything was larger, everything was better organized. Not like the little branch in Warnemünde or especially not like in Eberswalde. But even then I had my highs and lows in the Church. Maybe I can relate a personal experience from which I learned a great deal.

I always wanted to be like my father. Although he is not living anymore, he was a great example for me. Well, the young people in the Church today are probably like I was. You reach an age where you want to go your own way. Our whole family went to church, and I went through this stage. I often tell this story to youth groups in the Church, and they really prick up their ears. Well, I didn’t like the fact that I had to go to church every Sunday. I was an enthusiastic biker, and so when my parents and my brothers and sisters went to church, I arranged to take a bike ride into the Tharandter Forest. I would ride alongside the streetcar—that’s nice riding, alongside the streetcar—and I would ride clear out to the Rabenauer Meadows. There was a little lake there, Lake Weisseritz, and I would cool off there, wade around, etc. And by the time I got home, my parents were already there, and we had Sunday dinner together. And my father never said to me, “You have to come to church with us.” I liked that.

But then one day I began thinking that I was not really happy with the situation. I didn’t feel right. I didn’t have to go to church with them, I enjoyed my bike riding, but somehow I wasn’t satisfied. And then, just sort of automatically, I started going with them again. I could see that it pleased my father and my mother. They didn’t say much, but they put their hands on my head and ran their hands through my hair. I think that was a wonderful method of teaching and inspiring. From that day on, there has never been anything that has kept me from church. On the contrary, I have truly enjoyed it.

The branch here in Dresden was located in those days on the Dr.-Kurt-Fischer Allee. That building is very important for the history of the Church here. I mentioned that we came to Dresden all the way from Warnemünde to a meeting here. That was what we would probably call a regional conference today. Walter Stover was the mission president at the time [1946–51]. And the large park that belonged to the branch went way out behind the building. The transportation police have taken most of it now. Well, we held this big conference there and slept in the park on straw at night. And the Russians came along and made us all get up and show our identification papers. That was something I won’t forget soon.

And when the conference was over, we went to the train station. We wanted to take a train to the Rheinland to visit my father’s parents. At the train station, I saw how well-organized the Church was. Brother Stover had arranged it so that all the children at the train station were assembled in one place, and we were all given a bar of chocolate candy. And since I was just a little boy at the time, I got one too. We wanted to buy a ticket, but they wouldn’t sell us one because my grandparents were living in the Western Zone, in the Rheinland. And then I observed how the members of the Church stand by one another and help one another. Someone, one of the Mormons who had some authority to buy tickets, arranged it so that my parents could take this trip. The Mormons have always had to help one another here.

The State Security Police infiltrated the branches here in our country, I’m sure of that. Maybe in our church here, too. But I think they eventually saw that it was not right to oppose God, or maybe they just decided to draw back a little. It was not always an easy thing to work openly and honestly for the Church. There were many who had to experience serious disadvantages. I think, for example, of Brother Krause, the patriarch of the Leipzig Stake, who visited our ward today. He has been in prison several times. He has been through a lot. And I think about Brother Pawlowski. He has told me about how he had to go to the authorities to report every Church meeting. Every meeting, all the activities had to be reported to and approved by the police. He told me that he was not a great speaker—he didn’t have a glib tongue—but he told me that always before he had to go to the authorities he prayed about it and then the words would just fly off his tongue: what he believed, who he was, and that it was all true. He always came through it all right.

I remember one experience I had where Brother Pawlowski really strengthened me by placing great faith in me. I was up there in Schwerin on business and had visited the branch. A sister from the branch came to Brother Pawlowski—he was the branch president at the time—and told him she had to take a long trip into Poland, and she wanted to have a blessing. We all got together and prayed, and then President Pawlowski said to me, “Brother Schlüter, will you please give the blessing.” I was very pleased that he would have so much confidence in me that he would give me this important responsibility of giving the blessing. And the sister was very pleased, and I learned later that she went to Poland, had a wonderful time there, and came back safely.

Perhaps I could tell you about an experience that greatly strengthened my testimony. It took place in the old branch house. A nephew of mine was at that time in the army stationed at Görlitz, and whenever he had time off, he would speed over to Dresden on his motorcycle to see his parents. One Sunday, it was fast day, we came into the chapel, and I saw that his parents—my sister and my brother-in-law—with his sister and with other members of the family were very distressed. I learned that the nephew had had a very bad accident on the way to visit his parents and that his life was hanging by a thread.

Of course, I also became very depressed. It was hard to watch the emotional reaction of his parents and his sister. So I began thinking to myself, “How can I help? What can we do?” There was no opportunity to give him a blessing. During the entire testimony meeting, I was thinking about how we could help him. Of course, we could speak words of comfort to the parents, that’s all well and good, but it doesn’t really help the one who is injured. And then suddenly I had this idea in my head, “Heavenly Father is the only one who can help him. How could he help? He could help if we would show him our humility through fasting and prayer.” But how was I to tell the others about this, about what we could do?

And in the moment that I stood up to bear my testimony, it was all clear to me. I asked the branch to continue fasting together until that evening and then come to the branch house once again where we would have a common prayer for our brother, for my nephew. I was really surprised to see how many came, how many continued fasting until that evening. That was a real testimony to me—that I made this suggestion to the members and they came. And there were some who had not understood what I had suggested, who came to me later and said they would have continued fasting and would have come if they had understood it properly. But there were many members there. We went to our knees in unison, we prayed together.

Some time later I had the opportunity to go to the hospital to see my nephew. It was a terrible sight. It is such a testimony to me when I see him today. You can hardly tell that he has ever had an accident. But then he couldn’t see; one eye was misshapen; his nose was gone; his teeth were completely distorted; his jaw was broken in several places. But today, he has finished college; he has a family and is very faithful in the Church. This experience has been a real testimony for me. It has helped me very much. I have learned from this that we have the possibility to talk to our Father in Heaven. It doesn’t necessarily have to be through a formal blessing for the sick; it can be through fasting and prayer. And when it is right, he will bless us. In this case, the blessing was very direct and is very visible.

So those are a few experiences that tell something about my feeling for the Church, from my point of view, from my contacts with the Church. Maybe I can tell you one more small experience. I once had the opportunity, along with Olaf Schulze, to be in charge of a youth conference in the old branch house. We had a wonderful time. The conference lasted for a week, and we had a wonderful time together, a time which strengthened our faith. And the thing that impressed me was this: the old branch house had many rooms that had to be cleaned up. The next day was Sunday, and it had to be left in such a condition that the branch could hold sacrament meeting. We had only a short time to do this, and normally it took the entire branch all day long to do a thorough cleaning and put everything in order. But these young brothers and sisters worked so hard that we had everything done in just two hours, including the washing of the windows. We could give it over to the branch for their Sunday meetings. That was a real testimony to me that when we are motivated and work together for the Church, nothing is impossible.

On the opposite side of the street from the meeting house, on the Dr.-Kurt-Fischer Allee, there were apartments where many military personnel and many members of the secret police lived. They watched us through the windows when we came and went. I’m sure we were always watched. Applications had to be filed for permission to hold meetings. But after they began to understand that a very strict separation of church and state is a principle of the Church and that we were not enemies to the State, then they began to loosen up a bit. We did not have to apply for permission to hold meetings every week, and then later, when there were certain Church functions during the week, we did not have to report them at all.

Ursula: I learned a lot about the history of the Church from my grandmother. She had a very hard life. She lost her husband when my mother was four years old. He died of an illness which would probably not be fatal today—some type of brain fever. So there she was, a widow with my mother to care for. That was about 1923.

One day she went to visit a friend, and just at this moment, this friend had the missionaries at her home, and she heard about the gospel for the first time. As she explained it to me, she invited the missionaries to visit her in her home, where they gave her further instructions. She became a member of the Church.

My grandmother was very diligent and also very talented. She had to provide for herself and for her daughter all alone during the difficult years of the depression with its inflation and unemployment. During this time, she always rented one room to the missionaries, and her small apartment consisted only of a kitchen, a living room, and one bedroom. She kept a large collection of postcards from the missionaries with their photos. Brother Percy Fetzer was one of them when he was a very young man. They always wrote a greeting on the backside.

She told me that the missionaries often ate their noon meal with her, and they always asked her to make her dumplings. Those were the yeast dumplings that she put in a pot with a cloth over them. I’m sure she gained a great deal of spiritual strength from those times. I have seen a photograph where the missionaries celebrated Christmas with her. She invited a large group of missionaries, and there is my mother in the middle of them as a little girl. So my mother literally grew up in the Church.

At the time, Brother and Sister Stover were in Dresden as mission president, if I remember correctly. [Actually, Walter Stover was mission president of the East German Mission 1946–51.] My grandmother once told me that when there were meetings during the week she had to bring my mother with her and my mother was so small she often fell asleep. Then the mission president told her that the family came first and that her first concern should be for the care of the child.

But eventually my mother met her husband in the Church; I don’t know when that was. He was already a member. My mother married quite young. She was just nineteen years old, and my father was quite a bit older. He is thirteen years older than my mother. Well, then I was born in 1939, and of course I don’t remember much about the events when I was small. I only know that my parents told me that the branch met at that time on Königsbrücker Street, where the large grocery store is now. But I remember that the branch met for a while up the street a ways, up toward Dr.-Kurt-Fischer Allee, in a building that was back behind some other buildings. It was a little, flat building, and I remember being there with other children from the branch.

Hans-Jürgen: There was a Brother Bory in the branch at that time. He told me when I first came to Dresden that they used to hold street meetings down on the Elbe River and other places. Like the missionaries are doing now; they used to do that here.

Ursula: My mother told me that just before I was born all the missionaries had to leave the country. I was born on the last day of freedom, and the war began on the next day, September 1. And this year when I celebrated my fiftieth birthday, we had missionaries in our country again. So from that, you can see the span of time in which we had no missionaries.

In those early days, before I went to school, my father was very involved in the music programs of the Church. He conducted the mission choir, and he also played the harmonium and the piano. We didn’t have an organ at the time. We had a piano at home, and it was always so beautiful when my father played during our Christmas celebrations and the whole family sang along. My grandmother had a very beautiful alto voice. Those are very beautiful memories. It was only a shame that my father didn’t have the necessary talent to teach me how to play the piano. He didn’t have the patience. I sat down at the piano a few times, but then we gave it up.

I remember the great conferences we used to have at the branch house on the Dr.-Kurt-Fischer Allee. The members came from Forst and Cottbus and from all around. At that time, we owned the entire park next to the branch house, all the way down to the Wall. It had not been divided up. And the members camped out there and had picnics. It was wonderful. That was before the army and the police took it over, and we owned the whole park. After my youngest brother was born, I was allowed to take him out, and I always went up there with him to the park by the Church.

We did so many wonderful things together in the Church. We participated in a lot of programs. I recently found an old program about the sower who scattered various kinds of seeds. I had a part in it, and my sister Ingrid and Helga. We all had little speaking parts. Then we all took part in a Christmas pageant. I was an angel, and I brought my friend in who didn’t belong to the Church. She was an angel too. For a long time her mother talked enthusiastically about how her Inge got to be an angel in a long, white dress. I hope she will come to church with me again, even though many, many years have gone by.

But then something happened that really set us all back. Maybe it began with the fact that we always had such nice things in the Church, and through them the Church received a number of new members. For example, during the hard times, we always had something to eat; we received wheat and canned goods and other things. For example, we had a patchwork quilt at home made of colorful pieces of material over a cotton filling. You have seen them. It was made by the sisters at Relief Society. Nothing but little colorful strips sewn to one another, that kind of a quilt, so beautiful, like a comforter. It was something wonderful. When I was little, I stared and stared at the patterns. But now I have to go back just a bit.

Whenever I had to stay home alone when my parents had to go to the church house at night, I was terrified. Those were frightful times. I couldn’t go to sleep until I heard the key in the lock, then I could go to sleep. Then I knew that I wasn’t alone anymore. At that time, we lived about fifteen minutes’ walk from the church, and Brother Wöhe lived in the apartment above us. That was the father of Brother Heinz Wöhe. I think he was the branch president then.

Then there was something, some pieces of clothing or something came from America, and a quarrel broke out at Relief Society. In any case, it was my grandmother who got into an argument with someone. Well, it got worse and worse. This person or that person was reported to have said something, and as a result my grandmother and my mother refused to go to church anymore. And of course, they kept us children at home with them so that—I don’t remember exactly when all this happened—so that for several years, I did not go to church. Then I went to college, and then I became a practice teacher, and it wasn’t until I graduated and became an elementary schoolteacher that I came back.

When Hans-Jürgen moved to Dresden with his parents, he began to get better acquainted with me. We met one another on occasions, and through this acquaintance, I came back again. So our children had the great good fortune that they were born into the Church. But my youngest brother, who was just at the most impressionable age when this trouble took place, has never found his way back to the Church. He is totally out of the Church. It is very hard, but my parents still hope he will come back again.

Yes, my mother came back, and that was through some very unusual circumstances, not too long ago. In 1979 her only relative died up in Lübeck. She had to go to settle the affairs. She was sixty years old and could get permission to leave the country. So there she was in this strange city. My mother-in-law had given her the address of Brother Wächtler from Hamburg, and she turned to him. Then Brother and Sister Wiborny from Lübeck came and helped her take care of the family affairs and invited her to come to church with them. Sister Wiborny—she is a little like my mother, a little reserved—they understood one another right off, and that was the turning point that brought my mother back into the Church.

My father had stayed in the Church the whole time. He always went alone, and I know there were some very unpleasant times when they grew further apart. She couldn’t understand why he would keep going. But he bore it all with calmness and continued to go. I am so thankful that they are all together in the Church again—with the exception of my youngest brother. He went off and joined the Communist Party. He thought that was the best thing for the country and that he was going in the right direction. Now he has begun to think a little differently, now that so many things have begun to come out that no one knew anything about. I think that maybe he might, that sometime, he will find the way back. What is lovely is that his children all come, especially his son, and now he wants to be baptized. But he will have to wait until he is eighteen because his mother won’t hear of it. She won’t have anything to do with the Church.

Hans-Jürgen: Perhaps I could also say that I am happy that my parents-in-law both come again and are both very active in the Church. It is so wonderful when in the extended family everyone has the same interests and the same goals. I must say how much I respect my father-in-law. As my wife has just said, he was always there, like clockwork. He was hardly ever sick. Every Sunday he was there. He did his duty. And since my mother-in-law has become active again, we have a very different relationship. I am so happy about that.

Ursula: Could I interrupt? My grandmother also came back again. She spent the last year of her life in the Church, as long as she could walk. She couldn’t see anymore, but she came to the meetings regularly, so one could say that before her death she found her way back. This has often been a good lesson for me: that in spite of some little false words and some disagreements, even though one is truly offended, one should not set the gospel aside because of these things. You can’t just say, I’ll worship at home, and I won’t come anymore. I saw how we were all pulled further and further away. This is a good lesson, because I know where it all ends. It always happens that when someone turns aside and the children are in that age where they take in everything, then it will be decided whether they will spend their life outside the Church or whether they will remain true to the faith. It has been so good for our children that they have never had to experience an interruption like that, that they have always been in the Church.

Hans-Jürgen: Perhaps one other experience that has helped me a lot may be of some help to someone else. My father was bishop of the Dresden Branch for about thirteen years. He literally gave all of his energy to the Church, and when I close my eyes and see him sitting before me, I see him in his very common pose sitting at the table doing his Church work. He spent essentially all of his free time working for the Church. In a sense, he actually had no free time. And he had a very difficult illness that eventually took his life. He had a sarcoma, a bone cancer that has a tendency to metastasize, and he suffered very terrible pains. But as a family, we managed to take care of him in our apartment and not in the hospital. We said among one another that we would care for him ourselves. My brother and I took turns giving him his injections, and we are actually very grateful that we could keep him at home and that he died at home.

As he was lying there on his sickbed, he often talked to me about various things. Among other things, he had read a great deal. In a situation like this, when one has a difficult illness, a great deal of stress is placed on one’s personal faith and testimony. We often talked about Job and his experiences and trials, and we were actually able to strengthen one another. At one time, my father told me something that has remained strongly in my memory, something I will never forget. He said, “Hans-Jürgen, even if the gospel were not true—but you know that I believe in it with all my heart—but if it were not true, the least I can say is that because of the Church I have not been such a bad fellow. But you know that I believe in the Church.” That taught me a lot: that a man for whom I have a deep love had a firm testimony, and that this gave him so much strength.

This was at the time when President Kimball came here to Dresden. My father hoped that President Kimball would somehow be able to visit him, and sent a message to that effect. My father could no longer be taken to church. President Kimball discussed the possibility of visiting him, but he had so many meetings that he could not get away. But when he spoke, he mentioned my father in his sermon. That was truly wonderful. My mother had to stay home with my father, and suddenly my father said, “My name has just been mentioned.” And that was at the exact time when President Kimball mentioned him in his sermon. That was something truly marvelous. And it is also a testimony to me to know that a man of God can truly be a mouthpiece of God and that one can feel the influence of the Holy Ghost over distances, can feel that someone is praying for him, that they are with him in spirit. That has meant a lot to me.

He was still the bishop at the time. I know because I was the branch clerk. For ten years, I was the branch clerk. He was a strict bishop, but a good bishop. I remember that when he died and we went to the cemetery I had never seen so many people following a casket. I don’t believe there was a person from the branch who was not there. My father was very beloved. There were also a number of his colleagues from work there, and many of them said that they had really appreciated him and that he had truly been an example to them. He was a bishop to the very end. On his deathbed, he signed his last documents. My father’s name was Wilhelm Heinrich Schlüter. I am very proud of that because my name is Hans-Jürgen Wilhelm Schlüter. The Wilhelm is in there, and I am very proud of it. I am very proud that we can be members of the Church as a family.

I always tell myself that we have something that can make us happy. We really have to ask for God’s help in finding people who have this same desire. The mission president, President Wolfgang Paul, has said that not everyone has this desire. That’s why we can’t lose much time. We have to decide when we see someone whether they are ready or not. But I’m sure there are still many who are ready, and I am working hard to find them.

Ursula: Speaking of missionaries, the leader of our Pioneer Group [a communist youth organization] at school said once when I was in her room that we ought to be a little more concerned about religion and that she would like to learn a little about my church. So I told her a few things, and not long after that I was sitting in sacrament meeting, and the chapel door opened, and in she came with her family. I was more than a little amazed, since as a member of the Communist Party she was supposed to be an absolute atheist. At the end of the meeting, she greeted me and said, “I have to stay a while because my sister is being baptized today.” I had to sit down for that, it was so totally unexpected. And now she always sends a greeting with me for Elder Baumann. Apparently there is more to the story because she is also receiving the discussions.

We were talking about it on Friday, and she said to me, “Well, do you know how all this came about?” I said to her, “Elder Baumann told me you have a wonderful daughter.” Then she said, “Yes, yes. My sister and her husband had my daughter for a few days, and they went to the Strömerhof Restaurant to eat. There were two missionaries sitting at their table, and my little chatterbox Liese, she began talking about everything, so they got into a conversation. The end of the story is that my sister and her husband were baptized.”

Now the husband has received the priesthood, and that’s how it all came about. That is Brother and Sister Wolf. There was a rule among us public schoolteachers that we were not allowed to talk about the Church. We were employees of the State. It was known that I belonged to the Church, but I was not supposed to talk about it at school. I have a few colleagues whom I consider to be wonderful people and whom I would love to have with us, but I have invited them as much as I dare, and they have always had one excuse or another. They were afraid that it would be bad for them, some disadvantage. I hope now that conditions are loosening up I might be able to bring them with me. You can see from such examples as the leader of the Pioneer Youth Group that you can’t say in advance what will happen. There’s no use doing that.