Walking Through History: Anne Frank, Liberation Day, and the Heart of Amsterdam

This post is the last in a 4-part series capturing my unforgettable journey through Amsterdam—five days of bikes, bites, boats, and beautiful moments you won’t want to miss!

Amsterdam: A City of Remembrance and Celebration

🎟️ Chasing Tickets to the Anne Frank House: A Midnight Mission with a Bit of Magic

Before entering the Anne Frank House, we took part in a two-hour Anne Frank walking tour, and I can’t recommend it enough. Led by a passionate local guide, the tour began at the Jewish Museum, set within what was once a thriving Jewish neighborhood. The guide started with a simple but powerful question: “Does anyone know what these small brass tiles in the sidewalk represent?” We looked down at the square plaques beneath our feet—each engraved with a name, a date, and a place.

The guide explained that these are called Stolpersteine, or “stumbling stones.” They mark the last known residences of Jewish families who lived in the surrounding buildings before being deported during the Holocaust. Created by German artist Gunter Demnig, over 100,000 Stolpersteine have been placed across cities around the world, making it the largest decentralized memorial in history. Each one is a quiet but powerful reminder of the lives that once filled these neighborhoods—and the ones that were so tragically taken.

A brief stop across the stream from the museum was at The Dock.

 

Just a few minutes deeper into our walk, we arrived at the National Holocaust Monument, a site that brought an almost immediate hush over our group. Composed of long, winding brick walls topped with mirrors, it is inscribed with over 102,000 names. The monument honors Dutch Jews, Roma, and Sinti people who were murdered during the Holocaust and have no known graves. Each name—etched in stone, letter by letter—represents a life cut short, a story unfinished, a family forever changed.

Standing there, we instinctively whispered, as if the monument itself demanded reverence. There was no music, no narration—just the wind rustling through the trees and the quiet sound of footsteps as others walked slowly past the endless rows of names. It was one of those rare moments in travel when time seems to pause.

Reading the names, many of which listed entire families—mothers, fathers, children bearing the same last name—made the loss feel deeply personal. This wasn’t just a monument. It was a mass graveyard without graves, a collective memory carved into the walls of a city still grieving. The weight of history wrapped around us, a solemn presence that remained for the rest of the day.

As we made our way to Dam Square, we stopped by the National War Memorial. Fresh wreaths had been laid in honor of Liberation Day. Just steps away, we felt an unexpected joy from a cheerful melody—‘Het Snotneusje’, one of Amsterdam’s most beloved barrel organs, was playing for the crowd. Its name, meaning “The Little Snot-Nose,” hides a poignant history: during WWII, organs like this were silenced by Nazi rule. When the Netherlands was liberated in 1945, the sound of street music became a symbol of regained freedom. Each year on May 5th, Het Snotneusje returns to Dam Square, echoing not just joy, but resilience.

As our tour concluded just outside the Anne Frank House, we found ourselves swept into one of the city’s most heartfelt Liberation Day celebrations. This took place just steps away at the Westerkerk and the Homomonument. It felt serendipitous—and deeply meaningful—to transition from walking through Anne Frank’s story to standing in a space that honors another community persecuted under the same regime.

The Homomonument, unveiled in 1987, holds historic significance as the world’s first memorial dedicated to LGBTQ+ individuals who have faced persecution, particularly during the Holocaust. Its three pink granite triangles, arranged to connect past, present, and future, pay tribute to those who were silenced. It also honors those who continue to fight for equality, and those who will carry the legacy of resistance forward.

Its location—right beside the church that rises above the Secret Annex—creates a profoundly moving link between two communities bound by shared suffering and a shared hope for justice.

Touring the Anne Frank House is not just a museum visit; it’s a deeply human experience. Quietly walking through the narrow staircases and into the hidden annex where Anne, her family, and four others lived in hiding for over two years, you feel the space speak in silence. The rooms are small and dim, yet the weight of memory is immense.

Seeing Anne’s original diary, pages handwritten in her distinctive script, brings her words to life in a way no book ever could. The museum is intentionally understated—it doesn’t dramatize, it doesn’t need to. It invites reflection and empathy. You walk away not just remembering Anne, but feeling her: her hope, her fear, her voice.

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💭 Final Thoughts: A Day to Remember

Visiting the Anne Frank House on Liberation Day wasn’t something we planned—it’s something that found us. The combination of history, heartbreak, remembrance, and joy created one of the most emotionally powerful days of our travels.

This day reminded us that history is not confined to museums or textbooks. It lives in the streets we walk, the names we read, the music we hear, and the moments we pause to remember. On May 5th, we didn’t just learn about history—we walked through it.

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