Afton---The Münster

Did you know that Ulm is the birthplace of Albert Einstein? Cool, no? But there is so much more that is fascinating about Ulm/Neu Ulm. The centerpiece of the city is an incredible cathedral, Ulmer Münster, which is the tallest in the world to this day. It was actually the tallest building of any in the world until 1910 or so. Generation after generation after generation worked on it, as it took centuries to complete, albeit there were countless years they had to abstain from working on it.

Beginning as a Catholic edifice, it switched to Protestant along the way. In Germany, I found it interesting that no matter how small the villages we would see, without exception, the Church would be perched on the most prominent piece of land and would dominate the landscape. The Münster grabs one's attention, alright. Just think, it began a hundred years before Christopher Columbus sailed to America! Isn't that like being an ancient redwood or something? It is truly monumental.

Sad to say, it was a trip we didn't take you on, because of the demanding exertion it takes to climb to the top, a total of over 700 steps. I really don't know how we managed as it was, even though we were young and strong. Towards the top, in the steeple, the spiral staircase is so narrow only one person can pass at a time, pretty difficult if you're going up and someone is coming down at the same time. I don't know how we could have done it carrying a baby, but I hope at some point you get the privilege of ascending that magnificent structure yourself. Breathtaking---on more than one level.

Here are some facts and pix I copied from Wikipedia and another site, Sacred Destinations:

The final stairwell to the top (known as the 3rd Gallery) is a tall, spiraling staircase that has barely enough room for one person.
German: Ulmer Münster, literally: minster is the tallest church in the world, with a steeple measuring 161.53 m (530 ft) and containing 768 steps. The massive interior has the capacity to hold 30,000 people. This great work of architecture also houses important pieces of art.

History

Construction on Ulm Cathedral began in 1377, financed by the city's inhabitants. After a long period of no building – and long after the church became Protestant – the spire was added in 1890.

What to See

At 161 meters, the Munster's great Gothic spire towers over all others. Those who climb its 768 steps of well-worn stone are rewarded with a superb panoramic view of Baden-Württemberg's Ulm and Bavaria's Neu-Ulm and, in the right weather conditions, a vista of the Alpine range including the Zugspitze, the highest mountain. Climbers also come face-to-face with a variety of stone gargoyles and monsters.


Construction work

In the 14th century, the parish church of Ulm was located outside the walled city. The burghers of Ulm decided to erect a new church within the perimeters of the city and to finance the costs of the erection.

In 1377 the foundation stone was laid. The planned church was to have three naves of equal height, a main spire on the west and two steeples above the choir. In 1392 Ulrich Ensingen (associated with Strasbourg Cathedral) was appointed master builder. It was his plan to make the western church tower the tallest spire (which it is to the current day).

The church, consisting of the longitudinal naves and the choir, covered by a temporary roof, was consecrated in 1405. However, structural damages, caused by the height of the aisles and the weight of the heavy vaulting, necessitated a reconstruction of the lateral naves. The side aisles were supported by a row of additional column in their centre.

In a referendum in 1530/1531, the citizens of Ulm converted to Protestantism during the Reformation and in 1543 construction work was halted at a time when the steeple had reached a height of some 100m. The halt in the building process was caused by a variety of factors which were political and religious (the reformation, the Thirty Years' War, the War of the Spanish Succession) as well as economic (the discovery of the Americas in 1492 and of the sea route to India in 1497, leading to a shift in trade routes and commodities). One result was economic stagnation and a steady decline, preventing major public expenditure. In 1817 work resumed and the three steeples of the church were completed. Finally, on 31 May 1890 the building was completed.

Bombing of Ulm in World War II
A devastating air raid hit Ulm on December 17, 1944, which destroyed virtually the entire medieval city of Neu Ulm with the exception of the Munster.

Works of art


The tympanon of the main Western entrance depicts scenes from the Genesis. The central column bears a sculpture by the local master Hans Multsacher, the Man of Sorrows. These works originated in the late medieval era.


The 15th century choir stalls by Jörg Syrlin the Elder, made from oak and adorned with hundreds of carved busts are among the most famous pews of the Gothic period.

The original main altar was destroyed by the iconoclasts of the reformation. The current altar from the early 16th century is a triptych, showing figures of the Holy Family and the Last Supper in the predella.

The five stained glass windows of the apsis, which is in the form of half a decagon, show biblical scenes and go back to the 14th and 15th century.
The pulpit canopy is by Jörg Syrlin the Younger.

The main organ of the church was destroyed by iconoclasts and replaced in the late 16th century. In 1763 Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is known to have played it. For some decades it was the largest organ in existence. In the late 1960s it was reconstructed to solve acoustic problems of reverberation.

In 1877, the Jewish congregation of the synagogue of Ulm - including Hermann Einstein, the father of Albert Einstein - donated money for a statue of the Biblical prophet Jeremiah. The figure was placed below the main organ.

Later renovations in the modern era added gargoyles and a sculpture, The Beggar, by the expressionist Ernst Barlach.

Afton---Adam's Augsburg Arrival

Because today is Adam's birthday, I'm stepping out of line chronologically with these memories. They're pretty jumbled anyway, so there are no guaranties with any of this, you understand.

Because we lived off base "on the economy", as it was called, there were no guaranties about how we would find care for you in the middle of the night should we have to leave for the hospital at an inopportune time. The American Military Hospital was 40 kilometers away in Augsburg. So we asked Hans Fried to ask his parents about babysitters in the area. They were shocked, having never heard of such a thing. Extended families lived next to each other, more often in the same house, so they took depending on each other for granted. They said they would be happy to care for you, so the night before Halloween, as it turned out, we took you downstairs to stay for the evening.

We made a mad dash for the hospital and got there with half an hour to spare! Your little brother came quickly, and I was so surprised when the Dr. announced, "It's a boy!"

Coming from a family of four girls and knowing nothing about boys, I was stunned, and blurted out, "Help, what will I do?"

"Change him faster," grinned the Dr. Didn't take me long to find out why. The hard way.

I exited the labor & delivery room, traumatized by having been attended to by a grizzled old nurse in combat boots, but the joy in welcoming this precious baby to our family, to our hearts, was transcendent.

How you loved your new little animated toy, more so than the mechanical barking dog you had just received for your first birthday. In your short 12 months on earth, you had learned the art of being the consummate mother. When you were awake, he spent most of the time in your little German doll bassinet, and you'd give him the grand tour, hour after hour. You were the essence of love and compassion. And Adam had no peace. He was a patient and easygoing baby fortunately.

Things had changed in my absence, although only in the hospital a couple of days(yeah, it was the olden days). You and your Dad had forged a new stronger than ever bond, maybe because he finally had to feed you or change your diaper. You kept me at a little distance, I think because you strongly felt you were the better mother now, and diplomatically you allowed me to stay on as the maid. I always was good at laundry, so you left me to that. Good choice.

Because of birthplace, Adam was born a dual citizen, an authentic German, Bavaria style. Of all our little take home souvenirs, this oh, so cute one in the mini lederhosen was the ultimate for you. Me too.

Afton---Movin' On

We moved from Vohringen to Herrlingen following the return from our May trip. This time we lived in a family house, upstairs from Herr and Frau Iforgotthelastname and their son, Hans Fried. It was soooo tiny. One bedroom, and the kitchen was the size of a small closet, a small broom closet. It was clean and cute, with a killer view of the valley. But there were no Heidi and Cleve interventions, no Johnny and the barmaids, no bar music and rambunctious teenagers drinking below us, no condoms on the stairway, no drama. Ubiquitous peace and serenity. A fresh start. I loved it! Oh, how I loved it!

I remember hanging laundry out on a clothesline that was square, about four or five lines deep. Even when it was cold outside, this was our ritual, bringing in frozen clothes at the end of the day. It seemed so healthy and timeless. Washing the clothes was funny though. We rented a small machine, equipped with a centrifuger to wring the water out of the clothes, which it did with unbounded exuberance. It would get going at the speed of sound and dance across the floor in a most ungraceful posture, bumping and grinding like it was personal; it would take two of us to hold it down during that part of the cycle so it wouldn't go crashing into the wall or through the floor. A form of entertainment actually.

The bonus was that Hans Fried spoke English. Like so many of the teenagers did. So he was able to tell us all sorts of important details, like when the garbage men complained that the Americans filled up the cans with too much garbage. Those disposable diapers of yours. Almost every day thereafter, Daddy would have to put a bag of garbage in the car to take in and unload on base.

One day in the fall though, Hans Fried was at school and not able to bail me out when I really needed an interpreter. You and I were alone when I smelled something burning. I became more and more alarmed the more acrid the air became. Where there's smoke, there must be fire, right? That's it---our house is on fire!!!

I grabbed you and ran down the stairs and knocked on the door. "Fire, fire!" I yelled to Frau. She smiled, obviously clueless. "Fire, fire," I repeated more loudly. Doesn't help much to amplify pointless noise. "Iglesia," I pleaded, which is Spanish for church, I think, but it was all I could come up with. I mean I knew "lederhosen" and "wienerschnitzel" in German, but come on. I motioned around, held my nose, rolled my eyes, flailed my free arm. OK, you try doing "fire" in Charades. She smiled. I had no phone to call anyone for help, no Americans in town I could run to, limited options; so I just stayed there looking panic stricken and wouldn't leave.

Finally, she had me come in and I immediately noticed she had been cleaning out the fireplace and starting the first fire of the season therein. I pointed to it. And breathed. And smiled.

Surely it pays to learn a language. Or be gifted at Charades.

Afton---Intruder

Even though it was fun to be away from home on our many trips, life there wasn't exactly dull.

Johnny, the bartender and manager of the disco on the first floor, was a skinny, quiet guy who kept things interesting. Married and father of two, he found time to fool around with Frederika when she was not involved with "clients". Heidi had some funny ways to describe such arrangements, but I can't recall them now.

Anyway, I don't know what else Johnny had time for, but evidently things that aroused the curiosity of the authorities. One evening Dad was gone and I was nursing you back in bed when there was pounding on the door. It was glass, and it sounded like it was about to break. The next thing I knew, there was Johnny, diving under the bed. When the German Police came, it wasn't hard to act dumb. Dumbfounded already to have a strange man under my bed, I was pretty much in denial at whatever seemed to be transpiring. I couldn't/didn't understand them, and the favor was returned. He managed to stay hidden and left after they did, and that was the end of it. No rest of the story.

This was hardly the environment I had imagined bringing up a baby in, but I must say, you seemed to thrive on the drama and take it in stride. Everybody probably just seemed like silly adults to you. The only damages might have manifested in your proclivity to eat paper. Every letter from the States you ingested. Tummy still hurt? Is there a diagnosis for that? Can you sue your parents because of it?

Afton---Merci

Not only was Italy in your repertoire at such a young age, but Austria, Belgium, FRANCE, Liechtenstein, and the Netherlands were under your belt before you were a year old.

Most of the people stationed in Germany seemed to accumulate leave time to go back and visit their loved ones in the States. And everyone there had a pretty dismal opinion about going to France, expressing the idea that the French were none too fond of Americans, and less than hospitable to them. But Dad was impervious to the naysayers, and said we had to go there because I had spent so many years studying French in school. He was taking me no matter what.

The only drawback was that I was pregnant. Emotional. To the hilt. Everytime he wanted me to use my command of the language, for instance to ask for directions, I would start to open my mouth and begin to cry. Then he'd have to come and muddle through somehow what was wanted. Hand motions, lots of pointing. And the French responded so warmly to us. Exactly what we hadn't been led to believe.

One time a woman dragged him home to her home a block and a half away to have her family help her figure out how to help us. We were blown away. Maybe it was the magic of the universal appeal of a child. Who knows? At the Louvre, in front of the Mona Lisa, we had a repeat of our Sistine Chapel experience, when people ignored the art to play with you. In one restaurant, they were so excited to see a baby, they took you back to the kitchen to show you off(not that many tourists running around with babies). Even going up the elevator in the Eiffel Tower, people fussed over you. It made us realize people are pretty much the same the world over. Joy is in the moment. And children bring us to the moment.

Still, 6 or 7 years of French, and once in France I couldn't spit out even one "S'il vous plait"?

Afton---Ciao!

How good can life get---barely 6 months old and off to see Italy! Sweet!

What did you like best? In Rome, I was blown away by the Coliseum. I was convinced I really could smell the lions there. Following the ancient Appian Way and climbing down into the underground catacombs on the outskirts of the city, where the Christians lived and died seemed authentically sacred. Unbelievable, and extremely moving. I loved the fountains, Castle San Angelo with dungeons and all things medieval, all the venerable old Cathedrals. Everything. Truly everything.


For you, I think it was Piazza San Marco, which we reached by gondola in Venice. You went wild for the pigeons going wild over us, gathering on our heads and outstretched arms.

We stayed for most of our time there in Vatican City. The endlessness of all the priceless treasures in the Vatican Museum, room after room, was too much for my finite mind. The majesty of Saint Peter's, all the massive statues of Saints crowning it.

Then, the absolute supreme highlight---the Sistine Chapel, Michaelangelo's magnificent touch. Who would have thought we would ever get a chance to see that in the flesh? Hard to believe actually being THERE. We just stood there, speechless. And then a beautiful Italian couple, so classical, with a preteen son and daughter, approached us. In excellent English, they effused over you. "Ah, see, God's true masterpiece---your little one." Such a miracle is a baby. Kind of puts everything in perspective, no?

Afton---Sigmaringen

Living like kings may be a great thing, but then again when we visited Sigmaringen Castle on the beautiful Blue Danube in the dead of winter, I was persuaded that it was probably an advantage to live in the 20th Century. It was freezing!. Our German speaking guide somehow conveyed that it took 3 days to get the furnaces working back in the day, and I doubt they made all that much of a difference.

But the spaces and furnishings and art were more than compensatory for the discomfort. To enter where the knights would ride in on their steeds. To wander from ornate room after ornate room. Even so cold, it was sheer luxury. It was fun to imagine what it would be like to live like that. At least in summer.

We were the only souls around that January day, and our guide had lots of time to spend with us, though we didn't understand a word she said, and conversely. However, it was hard to mistake her enthusiasm as we reached a table with a little glass piece on it. About the size of a postcard, it depicted an intricate hunting scene. It was delicate, like exquisite filigree, and all white. I nearly yawned, but that's a little difficult to do when shivering. I just didn't get what was so remarkable, when we'd seen room after room of giant Chinese vases, priceless tapestries, centuries old portraits, and so on. But this animated woman got more and more wound up about this diminutive display. So we all worked diligently to understand why, and finally it became clear that this singular piece of art was over 400 years old and was made of bread dough. Isn't it funny what forms of expression a master artist can find to bring forth beauty? Seeing it through her eyes, it did become a true highlight for me. Even all these years later. Maybe there are more masterpieces around than we realize, if we just keep our eyes open.

Afton--Bottoms Up!

Lest you think it's my DNA alone you need to be queasy about, let me share the time we were on some trip, out and about in Germany, and we suddenly found ourselves out of our new most prized possession, disposable diapers. Drat!

So we pulled up to what was obviously some kind of little store in this little village and Dad got out of our little car to go and make a little purchase. Catch was, he had no idea how to say diapers in anything but English. So a little while later, I saw him come out of that store, convulsing in laughter, followed by two German fraus, who weren't laughing at all. They came to the car and he pointed to you. Grins broke out on their faces, and they all went back into the store. When he came out again, with the coveted diapers for you, he explained that he had been getting nowhere trying to get across to them what he needed. When he pointed to his nether regions to try and show them, they became rather disconcerted, if not downright alarmed. Somehow he managed to get them to come outside with him, despite their being irate. Charades don't always guarantee a winner. All's well that ends well though, and fortunately it ended well for your end.

Afton---Camping Tips(What NOT to Do)

There were actually some less glamorous parts of camping in Europe that were part of the package.  Like the toilets in Paris.  Because we weren't staying at hotels or buying gas at local service stations that would have restrooms, our choices were limited.  Literally to a hole in the cement floor in the stall some places.  Or male/female open air bathrooms on the busy streets---you could see people's feet as they were in the cubicle. To me, people seeing my feet while peeing was the same as seeing my face, which would have been red and extremely contorted.  Or what if "they" could see other body parts? Horrors! Being pregnant, I was more than interested in finding suitable "toilettes".  Often desperate, in fact.  One time, I had had enough, and forced Dad to buy $5/gal gas so I could enjoy a regular bathroom then.  We were used to paying a quarter for a gallon of gas at the military stations, so it was a rude awakening for him, but necessary in my mind.  So we would have to forgo food and shelter, at least we could have some dignity, no?

He found a way to get even on some trips by having me, obviously very pregnant, and with you in an carrier on my back, begin to blow up the air mattresses by huffing and puffing.  What a shill.  He would be in the background setting up the little tent, and people of all different languages would come out of the woodwork, well, out of the forest, to gallantly help me by trying all their different air pumps.  Inevitably one of theirs would do the trick, and we would be in business without having to buy an air pump or exert ourselves much either.  Did I mention we were poor?

Then there was the time in Switzerland when I got the attention of all those people from other countries by another method, this one rather inadvertent.  Most campgrounds there were very unlike their American counterparts.  Instead of private or semi private sites, your tent basically was staked right next to someone else's, with only a little area in front so you could walk to the path to the restrooms (Yea! They did have decent restrooms in good old Switzerland!).  That night, we drifted off to sleep with the cacophony of so many people talking in so many languages.  It seems as though I should have been dreaming about the Tower of Babel.  But no, I dreamed a dream that life should end.  I dreamed a dream I was being buried alive, a nightmare!

With limited space in our tiny 2 man pup tent, with you sleeping in the middle between us, I had rolled over with my pregnant belly into the side of the tent and was inhaling canvas into my mouth. Terror filled, and screaming bloody murder,  I woke up!  And so did everyone else in the vicinity.  Trying to figure out what had happened and explain it when you literally don't have the words to jump the language gap, is a bridge too far in the middle of the night.  Things eventually settled down, and I wonder how many were now convinced that American GIs beat their wives.  Who knows?

But I couldn't get past the overwhelming claustrophobia one must have when being buried alive, so Dad took my sleeping bag and turned it around, stuck my body in it with my face totally outside the tent pointing to the heavens, and zipped the flap down to my neck.  One way to deal with panic.  Yep, it almost immediately started to rain.  But what's a little drizzle when you can still breathe?  At least I knew I was alive.  Humiliated, but alive.

Afton---Moo, Moo

Don't think we never got to show you around. We lived in Bavaria, the foothills of the Alps were our backyard. It was hard to not be impressed. And the one thing that the Army was pretty good about was the amount of leave time it bestowed. Plus weekends we would often camp in Switzerland; it was very close. Not a bad life.

But we did have to do it all on the cheap. Even though gas for the Europeans was extremely expensive, for the GIs it was next to nothing. It was easy to be mobile with a borrowed pup tent. So we would camp during the good weather, and it was extremely picturesque wherever we were. Breathtaking much of the time. What seemed so amazing to me was how different it was than the States. Driving up a mountain, we would see a herd of huge cows with huge bells hung from their necks. And the kicker was stopping and getting out with our picnic lunch(cheese and crackers, ham if we were flush)and going and sitting among them to enjoy the sunshine. There were no fences, so we just made ourselves at home. Just us three and the girls. Holding you up next to one for a picture, it was so idyllic and charming, never wanted such a perfect moment to end.


On one trip we were camping up on the side of a steep mountain in Switzerland in just a tiny little place. We got there and set up the tent close to twilight, so didn't get a chance to look around much. In the morning we were awakened by a symphony of those ponderous cowbells in the misty valley directly below us as the cows began to meander and greet the day. Some alarm clock! It was surreal. So magical. Want to go back?

Afton---Come Clean

So what to do with a baby to keep her entertained all day? Think I mentioned taking a lot of long walks already, but how about the idea of spending all day once a week in the laundromat? That's got to be entertaining. The whir of the washing machines. Watching the clothes go round and round in the big drum dryers. Funny the things you can come up with when you have no choice.

We did meet a few charming people that way.(not as many as you can see if you go to peopleofwalmart.com right now). Anyway, we had clean clothes, and I no longer had to boil pans of water on the stove to wash diapers in the bathtub. And it seems looking back, it has often made life seem easier since then. Looking at what you can do during the lean times.

Seemed like laundry eventually became my career as you got more and more brothers and sisters. The very first thing we did when we finished our tour of duty and moved back to the States was to buy a washer and dryer. Was I in heaven!

I'd be interested to know how those early experiences affected you. Is laundry your favorite chore? Or wish someday we'd have disposable clothes? Hey, it could be worse.

Afton---Honey, I Shrunk the Kid

Even though our apartment had its challenges, it was not without its own appeal. Primarily that would be the huge German "shrunk" in the living room. This was a grand piece of furniture that I suppose would be used to house and showcase treasures, china, whatever. Made of beautiful dark wood, it was beautiful and elegant and fit with the deep blue curtains and lace sheers, all of which seemed such an irony in that place.

You were our treasure, and though we couldn't place you behind the glass doors, we would lift you on top of it, and you seemed to like being way up above our heads more than anything. Maybe it was the view there, maybe the fact that you inevitably drooled down on us and found that amusing somehow. At any rate, whenever we'd lift you up there, you'd giggle like crazy and spit on us. Guess you thought you were King of the World. And indeed you were.(I know, Queen).

Afton---Along for The Ride

So I became motivated to get my driver's license after all. Dad had told me no one passed the written test on the first try, so I determined I would show those GIs over there what a real woman could do. Kind of felt my reputation could use a lift. I studied diligently and aced it. Aced it. So there!

However, getting behind the wheel was an altogether different matter. Did you know there is absolutely no speed limit on the Autobahn? We lived in a land of fire breathing dragons. Well, of Mercedes and all. And we would limp along in our little handicapped VW, as the race car wannabees sped by. Thump thump! Thump thump!

But that was OK. The traffic circles were NOT OK! There was one with at least four levels of circles from inner to outer. You had to enter the outermost circle, merge into the innermost, and get back to the outer one to exit. It was impossible to avoid this evil place, as it was right outside the base on the way to Neu Ulm. I would have happily driven north to Finland in an effort to avoid this particular trap, but one Saturday, as luck would have it, we were going south, and I was driving!

I entered this nemesis, and like a pinball on course, entered the inner sanctum circle. There I froze. I lost all courage, and began crying hysterically, begging your Dad to take the wheel. Of course he refused. He was laughing hysterically, he had streaming tears as well. It was impossible to take the energy from my overwhelming fear and channel it into any other emotion, like anger and hate, so he was plain lucky. I just kept crying and going round and round the inner circle. Round and round. Round and round. Yep. Round and round. He just kept laughing. Finally, finally, just before running out of gas, the way was cleared. No cars in any of the circles. I gingerly moved over into one level after the other, and got the heck out of there. He was still laughing.

But I learned I could do anything. Just not effortlessly. Or gracefully. Never let the details stop you.

I confess this to you now because I'm just curious about after effects. You have much problems with dizziness? Maybe it's not just because you're blonde....

Afton---Fasching

In Austria and Southern Germany(München/Munich), the Carnival Season, known in that area as Fasching, starts officially on 11/11 at 11:11, but it's low key until the end of January. Then look out! It's a season of wild excess and full hearted abandonment prior to the beginning of Lent with its requisite fasts and deprivation. Incorporating pagan traditions with a modern bent, it's understood that a good time will be had by all. Anything goes. Anything.

Who knew that? I had not yet taken the test for my European driver's license by the end of January, so had taken the bus into base for a Wednesday night Relief Society meeting with the four other ladies in our tiny Branch, all of whom I think must have lived on Base.

It was the first time I had left you alone with your Daddy, and I knew you guys would have fun. So I enjoyed my time out with the girls, and following the meeting that night, walked across the highway from the base and waited for the bus to pick me up for the return trip. And waited. And waited.

Minutes ticked away. Before long they added up to hours. No bus ever came. In desperation and defeat, I crossed back and approached the Guardhouse at the Base entrance. Needing sympathy, expecting help, I was greeted with contempt and hostility. Stunned, I asked them to get me Captain Cox, our Branch President, on the phone. I believe he was like the Base Commander or some VIP, and trusted he could part the seas. The Guards refused to let me contact him.

In tears, I was able to remember the name of one of the young GIs who worked with Dad and had come to our house to visit(I think our Disco/etc. location made us a destination for some reason). He lived in the barracks and they did let me talk to him. I was shaking as he came to the phone. I hardly knew him, and I could hear him cussing and yelling as he came to the phone. Unhappy to have been been roused from sleep, he gruffly answered, but he melted when he heard me sobbing and quickly came to pick me up. You gotta love the shining knights of the world, white horse or not. I explained to him how I was stranded, with no way to reach my husband. He explained why I was treated so disrespectfully---the guards would have been watching me alongside the road, waiting to be picked up like any lady of the night ready for a Fasching experience. That I'd begged to speak with a family man was a bridge too far. Embarrassed? Humiliated?

I was driven straight home, and Dad was relieved. But he sure laughed a lot! Not me though, for years.

So I start out with a good intention, Church meeting, and practically end up with a scarlet letter. Pretty much the way my life usually goes. Hope that DNA spares you, love.

Afton---Out & About

Without speaking the language so as to be able to talk to anyone(other than Heidi, which had its drawbacks), and without car, phone, radio, or TV, I would spend long hours exploring on foot with you as my sidekick. I knew of no Americans living in Vohringen, so our circle was pretty small, except for Church on Sunday. So rove we would. Waiting for your Dad to return in the evenings. Hoping he would.

The Cold War was a dark shadow between the East and the West, and we lived oh so close to the Iron Curtain. If he were a few minutes late, I would start planning his funeral. Then ours, for I knew of no lifeline or way to reach out for help, should we need any. There was always a possibility that his unit would just be called out on alert with no notice, as that was constantly happening to others. They would be in the field for a week, or even several. Then it would just be you and I that would perish, with no food, no money, no transportation. But Dad was always lucky, and as a clerk, he was hardly Infantry, so I think one time he was gone for a couple of days. Obviously we all survived.

Anyway, we would walk everyday downtown, and one day in early January, the weather was lovely and I decided we would walk the 13 kilometers or so to the base in Neu Ulm and surprise your Father. I remember wearing a skirt and matching blouse and being bold and confident enough to leave coat and sweater behind. Thank goodness I brought a warm blanket for you, probably accidentally, because by the time we were 2 towns down the road, a snowstorm moved in. I have sometimes reflected what a pitiful sight that must have been for Germans driving by---your American stroller identified us, but probably not as much as my American lack of proper attire and common sense.

But there was no turning around, and was your Dad ever surprised to see us begging a ride home from him when he got off duty.

I never was a Boy Scout.

Afton---Ale, Anyone?

We were lucky to enjoy a fairly mild climate, because even though we learned that we actually did have an oil stove, and the possibility of heat that winter, the reality of the situation was that no sooner would Dad pour oil into it than the heater would explode and there would be black soot all over the walls, ceilings, and every corner. It would call for immediate clean up. Vexing, so vexing.

So during the days, I would put you in your stroller and wander for hours. At night, we three were in bliss under that generous fedderdecker. We were happy.

One evening just before Christmas, there was a knock on our door. There was Frederika, cheerfully asking if we wanted any ale for Christmas. She spoke no English, and we, no German, so we cheerfully declined her offer. But she was very persistent. So we tried to explain how we didn't drink because of our religion. We couldn't seem to find the right words, and were at kind of an impasse. She wouldn't leave. It was perplexing to have her so intent on us accepting her offer of ale. We wanted to be polite and all, but it was getting old. Finally, after these protracted communication failures, it dawned on Dad that she was proffering "oil" for our stove, to make sure we'd have enough to get through the holiday. Danke schön.

Duh!!

Afton---First Christmas

Guess I should back up a minute and touch on your first Christmas. Seeing as we arrived in December, when we went into Neu Ulm, the city where the Army Base was situated, we literally entered into a fairy tale. This was the land of fairy tales, and the Christmas aura seemed to magically merge with that. Even entering the streets was like living in a book of make believe. Going into the stores and seeing toys and clothes and all manner of delights that were so different from anything American we could ever imagine was a sensory feast.

But we had no money, and I mean no money. An Army Private back in the day could hardly afford air to breathe, much less a family to feed.

Grandma Mudgie, our fairy godmother, had sent gifts for you to put under the tree. Problem was, we had no idea how we could get a tree. Would it be Christmas without one. And what to get for our precious little gift from heaven?

As it turned out, at the last minute we found a tree at a lot that was closing, for a dollar or two. We popped popcorn and made garlands to decorate it with. That was it. And we called it perfect. Dad arranged to pull guard duty and KP for some of the single GIs who could afford such extravagance. So he was gone for Christmas Eve, but joined us later Christmas Day. And Santa brought you a baby doll and beautiful heirloom German bassinet for her. Fröhliche Weihnachten!, Fröhliche Weihnachten!, Best Christmas ever!

Afton---The Fun Continues

Life with our neighbors continued. Much the same way it began. Heidi and Cleve would get in major knock down, drag out fights. The German Police and MPs would arrive. They'd smile and hand us little Santa Maria.

By New Year's Eve,2 weeks since our arrival, we had long been on a first name basis with most of the MPs who came out to our little village, our little drama; and they came to spend that holiday with us. Well, so we thought. They seemed to find time to spend downstairs at the disco with the German movers and shakers(likely Frederika and Eve, the barmaids---and ladies of many talents, our second floor tenants). Of course, that night we had custody of your almost sister by then, and took some photos of you two wearing some improvised New Year sashes. We listened to fireworks throughout the night, and wondered where in the world we were.

We had custody of Santa Maria so often, it just seemed natural. One day, Heidi excitedly called me down to her apartment. Cleve had just bought a new suit. She was thrilled to show me that she had cut it to shreds while he was on duty at the base. I nodded and waited to take the baby upstairs later.

This pattern continued for several months. One Saturday we had driven to the PX with you and Santa Maria(with our usual custody arrangement)to do some shopping. We were leaving base as evening was approaching. Reality was approaching as well, when we noticed Heidi & Cleve standing in line---together!---outside the little movie theater. What?

Guess that worked for them. As it turned out, Heidi had 2 other children by other GIs that were being cared for in the social system there. She sure knew how to work a system. And I felt like a milked cow. Moo!

Afton---A River Runs Through It

Seeing as we had to lock ourselves into our apartment for our first weekend in Europe, we were unaware that we lived only a block away from the fabled Blue Danube River. Not being on top of my geography, I hadn't realized that as an actual place, but as the setting for the waltz, "The Blue Danube" by Johann Strauss.

Unfortunately, there was considerable stress while we were cloistered with our little charge. Santa Maria's parents evidently bought separate but equal supplies for her, and neither of them would relinquish one diaper or can of formula to us, so I had taken to trying to nurse both of you. Dad hadn't gotten around to buying the things I had requested him to have on hand before our arrival, and the Army hadn't delivered our belongings from the States yet(that would have been our clothes, our pots, pans, dishes, etc.) The place was furnished, and he had bought some sheets. And a cake. We had cake.

It seemed strange to have being stranded as our first experience. We couldn't really leave the apartment. Who knew when those crazy parents might attack? And Dad wouldn't leave me alone, just in case. So it seemed like quite a long weekend, all and all.

But Monday came. And so did Heidi. I gave her little girl back, and took mine into the base at Neu Ulm to her first Dr. appointment. After some much needed reassurance that we hadn't yet caused you any permanent damage, we returned and began to explore our new surroundings.

What a thrill to find the lovely and famous river so close by. You yourself had been named for a beautiful river. It seemed like a good omen. Finally!

I'd loved "The Blue Danube Waltlz" by Strauss ever since I was a little girl.  And here I was now with my little girl. Let's dance!

Afton---Guten Nacht

So your first night in Germany, we had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of another family. Heidi and Cleve and baby Santa Maria lived on the floor below us. And could make themselves heard. Boy.

I had collapsed with you and Dad under our fedderdecker(down comforter)in our brand new surroundings. When what to my wondering ears did appear, a few hours later about 2 am, but shrill screaming, "Help, help, he's trying to kill me! Help! Help!" In perfect English? Perhaps it was the jet lag causing me nightmares?

No, I was fully awake, and there was no mistaking the cacophony beyond our door. "D," I whispered to your Dad, "go help whoever that is."

"Are you crazy?" he replied, and rolled over. Without another thought, I bolted from under that feather comforter and ran out the door and down one flight. "He's kicking me down the stairs," the blond woman wailed. How anyone would be capable of transporting this over 6 foot tall, big boned German woman in the hallway anywhere she didn't want to go was a puzzle to me. But I was too tired and confused to argue, and took her word for it, and told him to stop it right now. Cleve was tall, but slender. A black GI from the base in New Ulm. They both started to tell me their side of the story at the same time, but it was hard to process. I did gather that there was a baby involved in the squabble somehow, so I left them and ran into their apartment and found little 2 month old Santa Maria on the floor by the bed.

Others had gathered in the interim, and somehow eventually both the MPs from the base and the German Police appeared. Whew! Well, it turned out to be a dilemma for them to communicate in the first place, and to figure out who had jurisdiction in the second. So guess what? They struck a deal and in a Solomon like decision, I was given custody of little Santa Maria for the weekend, and told in all seriousness to guard the baby with my life, and under no circumstances to let either parent near her for the weekend. So I returned upstairs with a temporary orphan and brought you your first little "freund".

Ahhh, baby girl, what a kaleidoscope of changes for you in this new world you had so recently been welcomed to! Guten nacht, little one, back to dreamland.

Afton---Guten Tag

Your Dad tended to look on the bright side of things, so he wrote from Germany that it was going to be an unbelievably wondrous experience. Heck, the currency exchange was more than 3 marks, nearly 4, to every dollar. We would be living like kings! Kings!

Unfortunately, he neglected to mention that he meant kings from the 13th century. Because when we got to our little apartment in Vohringen after traveling over 30 hours, we had no heat, no hot water, no this, no that. However, we had traveled by car, rather than carriage. Improvement, no? Although said car had much in common with travel of yesteryear. We had no floor in the ancient VW, no muffler, no heat. We had to keep the windows open(did I mention it was Dec. 9th?)so as to not die of fumes. Year round we ended up doing this, with you in the back seat. However did you survive these novice parents?

Things balanced out however, perhaps somewhat by the free entertainment we enjoyed as we lived on the third floor of a very small building. The only other apartment on our floor was rented by Turks(the imported low echelon workers of German society), the second floor by, how shall I say, "working women" on one hand, and Heidi and Cleve on the other(more to come on this). And the entire first floor was a teen age discotheque. Wow! How could you not have fun?

Our new home was not without its charm however. If you consider that I had to boil pots of water on the stove for us to bathe, and for me to wash out your cloth diapers in the tub. In a matter of months Pampers made their debut, and I knew the age of miracles was not dead. Even living in the age of "kings" as we were.

As excited as I was to see your Dad again, it took only minutes for me to start crying to go "home" again. But we were home, tears and all, and home we stayed.

Afton---Surviving Supermom

We brought you home from Sherman Hospital, and had you to ourselves, well not really, for such a brief time(hours)until your Daddy had to ship out. We didn't know where he would be stationed, or indeed, when we would ever hear from him, but the general plan was we would follow him to Europe as soon as possible.

You and I occupied ourselves in his absence with eating. And only eating. First time Mom, I thought the answer to everything was feeding you. So you I nursed you with a passion, till you had rolls on your arms and legs within a couple of weeks. Four or five pounds in a month? Who does that? When you weren't being fed, you were sleeping, and I felt I had to watch you round the clock, so you wouldn't forget to breathe. So I would gaze at you endlessly and will you to inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Seemed to work. How seriously I took that mission, not just to give you life, but to protect and preserve it; yes sir, 24/7, I wouldn't let you have a moment to yourself. I was just exhausted and sore, but you poor baby, were nearly overmothered to death.

Six weeks later you and I were on a plane over the Atlantic. Germany, America was about to bring you to your knees! Well, at least make you suffer a little. Or give you something to laugh at. Your Daddy picked us up at airport in Frankfurt, and we headed for our first real home, in Bavaria.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AFTON!

So in honor of this milestone of yours, I'm going to post one memory each day of your very first year- or so- for every year of your life since. Like I can remember THAT far back! All those times when you were a bitty fraulein living the life in Europe.  Those were the days!  Well, some of them anyway, bits & pieces of the long ago.  So to jog your memory....  Here goes:

Once upon a time, there was an exquisite baby girl born in Elgin, Illinois, and had that mirror of the Queen's been available, it would have said, "Indeed, this little one is now fairest of them all." (Thank goodness this is a different fairy tale, and we didn't have to go the poisoned apple route.)

Because your Dad was in the Army with orders to ship out to Germany on your due date (Oct. 10), we got the Dr. to agree to induce you a little early, so you two could meet. Dad seemed to think making this appointment to get to the hospital early in the morning and having a baby in hand a few hours later was easier than going to the Dentist. Maybe for him. Grandma Mudgie saw him in the Hospital Lobby after you were born, where he came to announce, "It's a Girl!", and said he was beaming to the moon and back.  

I wasn't sure it was quite that easy, but it was the most overwhelming feeling, the most spectacular thing that had ever happened to me. More than worth it. Flooded with love and gratitude, I looked around after catching my breath and simply couldn't figure out where the chorus of angels was, or at the very least, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Whenever had rejoicing been more appropriate?

How many times through the years have you again and again taken my breath away? Still, I remember with awe that very first time. With a crown of long black hair, delicate features, and a tiny pink rosebud mouth that would now dictate my every move, you were perfect. Absolutely perfect. And still are, my love.