After I was bailed out of debtor’s prison, I made a Billy Pilgrimage in the rain to find where Kurt Vonnegut was imprisoned during the bombing of Dresden.
It rained quite a lot and I used both an umbrella and a stunningly flattering plastic poncho. I had only vague directions to the location as the tour guide was on vacation this week and blogs about finding the location were not encouraging. Along the way I found an old friend.
Ahoy. I avoided puddles and cross referenced cross streets for a total of almost 6 miles, all the time thinking that if Billy Pilgrim could survive being navigated through space and time, I could tolerate a bit of rain.
After many dead ends and incorrect assumptions, I found the building complex where the Slaughterhouses used to operate. You can tell because the last remnant of the meat industry is in the parking lot–a small statue of a cow.
The complex as a whole looks like this.
According to some blogs, there is a small sign commemorating Kurt Vonnegut somewhere on the street, but I never found it. There is also supposed to be a room dedicated to him and Slaughterhouse-5, or The Children’s Crusade: A Duty Dance with Death, which I was also on the hunt for.
I approached the gate with the same rain soaked shuffle that has become my summer stroll in Europe, passed by the security kiosk, and began looking in windows like a proper trespasser. Germany has done very little–nothing, really-to encourage tourists or any member of the literati to visit this site. In fact, I was told to leave. Yes, as KV and PB were forced to stay, I was forced to leave. Luckily I have an uncomfortably convincing dumb blonde expression and this, as it has may times, allowed me to do what I wanted. I found the door to the slaughterhouse.
It looks upsettingly similar to the door I took a picture of in Amsterdam, though this time I could stomach a selfie.
Yes, when I found the door, the rain cleared and the sun shone on it and the security guard permitted pictures despite my wet hair and soggy feet. I wanted to stay and try to find the room with all the historical information and KV’s quotes, but Germans are not overly welcoming and German security guards mean business.
So it goes.
paralyzedbynotcaring 