When I wake up this morning, the rain is lashing against the window pane. Darn it all, I tell the ancestors. We were planning to go on a tour of the Vulkan Eifel this afternoon with Peter and Christel.
Peter assures us at breakfast that the rain is supposed to stop by noon. Our tour won't be until after lunch. So we should be just fine.
It's a quiet morning, in this household of four now. Christel and I do laundry - David and Peter get their hair cut. They have been planning this outing for a week.
David loves to get his haircut when he travels. It gives him a chance to talk to the locals, to find out the gossip - what makes a place tick. It turns out that the barber has been to Canada - in 1967 when Canada celebrated its Centennial with Expo 67. The barber was in the German navy and the ship docked in Montreal as part of the German pavilion.
The barber and his fellow marines would go to the Montreal discos with the girls who worked at the Ontario pavilion. It was one of the most popular pavilions at that world exhibition. David and I waited in line for several hours to get in. The barber and his friends were let in the back door by the hostesses they had met at the dances! Hmmm.....
We enjoy the remainder of yesterday's goulash for lunch. Then it's off to see the Vulkan Eifel - rain or no rain.
Actually, the rain does start to let up. We begin our tour with the lakes formed after the last volcanic explosion - oh, about ten thousand years ago. The volcano erupts about every 10,000 to 20,000 years - so it is due for another eruption any time soon - in the next 5o or 100 or 100,000 or more years. Not on my watch, please, I hope!
Peter assures us at breakfast that the rain is supposed to stop by noon. Our tour won't be until after lunch. So we should be just fine.
It's a quiet morning, in this household of four now. Christel and I do laundry - David and Peter get their hair cut. They have been planning this outing for a week.
David loves to get his haircut when he travels. It gives him a chance to talk to the locals, to find out the gossip - what makes a place tick. It turns out that the barber has been to Canada - in 1967 when Canada celebrated its Centennial with Expo 67. The barber was in the German navy and the ship docked in Montreal as part of the German pavilion.
The barber and his fellow marines would go to the Montreal discos with the girls who worked at the Ontario pavilion. It was one of the most popular pavilions at that world exhibition. David and I waited in line for several hours to get in. The barber and his friends were let in the back door by the hostesses they had met at the dances! Hmmm.....
We enjoy the remainder of yesterday's goulash for lunch. Then it's off to see the Vulkan Eifel - rain or no rain.
Actually, the rain does start to let up. We begin our tour with the lakes formed after the last volcanic explosion - oh, about ten thousand years ago. The volcano erupts about every 10,000 to 20,000 years - so it is due for another eruption any time soon - in the next 5o or 100 or 100,000 or more years. Not on my watch, please, I hope!
(More details in English:) http://www.bamjam.net/Germany/VulkanEifel.html
The lakes are
almost completely round. There are not a lot of tourists at this time of year - and not in the rain, anyway. A picturesque chapel across the water catches my eye.
We drive down to a lake that is partially filled in. Getting out of the car, Peter spots a deer in the distance. David is able to capture the image using his zoom lense. We all take a look - the deer is obviously a pregnant female. The circle of life in the volcanic Eifel continues.
Ther
e are several other stops. An old castle - well actually two old castles - one high up on the hill, the other on the lower slope - they both remind us of battles of old and the long history of this place.
We stop in the town of Prüm. This is where Sanni lives, and Peter and Christel show us the church where she worships. Actually it is the Basilica of St. Salvator,and was named a Basilica because it has a relic. The relic consists of the sandals of Christ.
There is a small tour going on, so we join in. The tour guide recognizes Peter - he has brought many visitors here in his role as step-on tour guide. We are introduced and she gets quite excited about our story. Why isn't Fritz-Peter writing this up for the paper? We explain that this is a very personal journey for both me and for our father's family.
The doors to the shrine with the relic stand open. The guide looks the other way while David takes a photo. At the back of the church is the choir loft and the huge pipes of the organ. I try to imagine the sound of the choir in here and picture Sanni and Hugo singing in the church choir. Sanni has given me a CD of their choir, and I can't wait to listen to it. We leave the church and get back on the road.
We turn off the highway and just past the new hospital, stop to view a monument to a man-made disaster - an explosion of a munitions storage dump that took place on July 15, 1949. Twelve
people died, much of Prüm was destroyed and the explosion could be heard as far away as Stadtkyll. The large crater remaining, now overgrown with grass and trees and bushes, does not begin to symbolize the size of the destruction.
We leave this monument of destruction, and turn back onto the highway. We are heading home, back to Stadtkyll. Traffic is starting to build up.
Suddenly Peter exits the road, and turns into a service area - gas station, restaurant. He explains to me that this is the place where my mother, my father and I met for the last time in 1948 - the place that my Uncle Willi mentioned.
I get out of the car and walk across the parking lot. In those days there were other buildings here - probably a pub, or other hostelry. I do not feel any sense of recognition, of being in this place before.
Instead I feel only great sorrow and pain - the sorrow of my mother at the final parting, the pain of Christel's mother. And my father - what does he feel? And what about me, I want to cry? I was there too!
I think of the note that my neighbour and friend, Martha, has given to David to give to me in Germany. She says, "Remember - you're OK! .... Your mother was an example of worth. Your father loved you from afar and you obviously were in his heart. Look how you all turned out! They would have been proud of you." Thank you, Martha.
But even so, just for a moment, I feel guilt - and I want to sink down to the pavement and weep!
I walk back to the car, quietly. I do not weep - my mother taught me never to show anyone if I am hurt or in pain. Hold your head up high and go on. It's very hard this time.
The ride back in the car is quiet. When we go home, David goes to Fritz-Peter and Brigitte's to work on his computer. I stay home, knowing I would not be very good company, and head up to bed early.
The lakes are
almost completely round. There are not a lot of tourists at this time of year - and not in the rain, anyway. A picturesque chapel across the water catches my eye.We drive down to a lake that is partially filled in. Getting out of the car, Peter spots a deer in the distance. David is able to capture the image using his zoom lense. We all take a look - the deer is obviously a pregnant female. The circle of life in the volcanic Eifel continues.
Ther
e are several other stops. An old castle - well actually two old castles - one high up on the hill, the other on the lower slope - they both remind us of battles of old and the long history of this place.We stop in the town of Prüm. This is where Sanni lives, and Peter and Christel show us the church where she worships. Actually it is the Basilica of St. Salvator,and was named a Basilica because it has a relic. The relic consists of the sandals of Christ.
There is a small tour going on, so we join in. The tour guide recognizes Peter - he has brought many visitors here in his role as step-on tour guide. We are introduced and she gets quite excited about our story. Why isn't Fritz-Peter writing this up for the paper? We explain that this is a very personal journey for both me and for our father's family.
The doors to the shrine with the relic stand open. The guide looks the other way while David takes a photo. At the back of the church is the choir loft and the huge pipes of the organ. I try to imagine the sound of the choir in here and picture Sanni and Hugo singing in the church choir. Sanni has given me a CD of their choir, and I can't wait to listen to it. We leave the church and get back on the road.
We turn off the highway and just past the new hospital, stop to view a monument to a man-made disaster - an explosion of a munitions storage dump that took place on July 15, 1949. Twelve
people died, much of Prüm was destroyed and the explosion could be heard as far away as Stadtkyll. The large crater remaining, now overgrown with grass and trees and bushes, does not begin to symbolize the size of the destruction.We leave this monument of destruction, and turn back onto the highway. We are heading home, back to Stadtkyll. Traffic is starting to build up.
Suddenly Peter exits the road, and turns into a service area - gas station, restaurant. He explains to me that this is the place where my mother, my father and I met for the last time in 1948 - the place that my Uncle Willi mentioned.
I get out of the car and walk across the parking lot. In those days there were other buildings here - probably a pub, or other hostelry. I do not feel any sense of recognition, of being in this place before.
Instead I feel only great sorrow and pain - the sorrow of my mother at the final parting, the pain of Christel's mother. And my father - what does he feel? And what about me, I want to cry? I was there too!
I think of the note that my neighbour and friend, Martha, has given to David to give to me in Germany. She says, "Remember - you're OK! .... Your mother was an example of worth. Your father loved you from afar and you obviously were in his heart. Look how you all turned out! They would have been proud of you." Thank you, Martha.
But even so, just for a moment, I feel guilt - and I want to sink down to the pavement and weep!
I walk back to the car, quietly. I do not weep - my mother taught me never to show anyone if I am hurt or in pain. Hold your head up high and go on. It's very hard this time.
The ride back in the car is quiet. When we go home, David goes to Fritz-Peter and Brigitte's to work on his computer. I stay home, knowing I would not be very good company, and head up to bed early.
This is a very poignant entry, Mom!
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